


The Archery Contest

by StoryMachine



Category: The Haunting of Bly Manor (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Arranged Marriage, F/F, Friends to Lovers, Happy Ending, Medieval AU, faking dating, it's a fake dating au but set in medieval times, it's getting a little angsty sorry gays, so much yearning and pining let's go, some historical contexts are incorrect mainly because my historical contexts are usually incorrect
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-10
Updated: 2021-02-25
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:33:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 22,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27486595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StoryMachine/pseuds/StoryMachine
Summary: Dani's father is forcing her to choose a husband and Dani really doesn't want to get married. So she does what any sane woman would do. She gets Jamie to dress up as a man and enter an archery tournament her father hosts to win her hand in marriage. Then, the two friends can live out the rest of their days without ever having to marry, only with Jamie having to throw on trousers every once in a while for an appearance.
Relationships: Dani Clayton/Jamie
Comments: 99
Kudos: 307





	1. Chapter 1

“JAMIE!” Dani throws open the gates to Jamie’s farm.

She runs through the fields of strawberries and grapes, passing the blackberry trees, the apple trees, and the lemon trees. But Jamie is nowhere to be found on the land. 

Dani runs up to her house and tries the front door. It’s locked. She knocks impatiently and starts running to the barn after hearing silence. 

“JAMIE!” Dani yanks open the barn door. 

And then she hears her.

“Oi, who’s out there making a ruckus on my farm?”

Dani rounds the corner and heads to the back of the barn. There she finds Jamie, shirt and trousers rolled up to her elbows and knees. Arms deep in a bucket of water and soap, pulling out a brush and softly cooing to her horse. 

“Who’s making such a ruckus on our farm, Tall Boy?” Jamie scrubs at his sides, “you reckon I should kick them out for disturbing my peace?”

Dani huffs loudly, “Jamie.”

“Ah,” Jamie finally looks up at her, teasing, “Lady Clayton, of course. I was wondering who else could possibly have the audacity?”

Dani rolls her eyes, “Jamie, I must speak with you about something. Something important.”

And Jamie hears the urgency in her voice, “Right, Dani. Let us speak inside.”

-

 _JAMIE!_ Dani called from the road.

Jamie looked up from her strawberries, her lips formed a smile before she could think to stop it. Her hands braced on her knees as she stood up and those hands left soil prints on her trousers. 

_Lady Clayton,_ Jamie greeted, _how are you this fine day?_

 _I’ve told you to stop calling that._ Dani hopped off her horse, _look what I brought for you._

And Jamie hadn’t been able to see it at first but as Dani led her horse to the side, from beside emerged a little thing. A tiny horse, couldn’t have been more than a few months old, just a standard looking brown horse with nothing special to him. Except he was skittish, Jamie could see that about him right away. And he’s tiny, oh so small Jamie didn’t even think he should be away from his mother, much less have traveled all the way to Jamie’s farm.

 _Who’s this?_ Jamie cooed softly, question aimed at Dani but her eyes remained on the foal’s.

 _He’s yet to be named,_ Dani answered, _he was the runt our mare birthed six months ago. He hasn’t grown quite nearly enough and my father said he’s wasted coin, eating but never growing. He’d like to sell him to the butcher._

_Oh, not the butcher,_ Jamie glanced at the foal. He looked to be more bone than meat.

 _I thought maybe you’d like to have him,_ Jamie finally turned and caught Dani looking at her shyly, _I thought maybe he won’t be a big steed but he could still carry you to town. You won’t have to walk the far distance anymore._

Jamie smiled at her softly, _my, Lady Clayton. You don’t have to be so convincing, I was going to agree, even if you’d not said anything at all._

And then Jamie took another look at the foal. She studied him closely, took in his wobbly and knobbly legs and his small stature and his tiny face. She took in all of this and then she named him, _Tall Boy._

-

“Would you fancy some tea?” Jamie asks, already heading to the kitchen.

“Yes,” Dani nods behind her, “please.”

She takes a seat at Jamie’s modest table in front of her fireplace and she doesn’t have to wait long for Jamie to come back with two steaming cups of tea.

“Here,” Jamie places Dani’s cup in front of her, “with ridiculous amounts of sugar unfortunately, just how you prefer it.”

Dani’s hands wrap around the mug as she blows on her tea softly, her eyes distracted. She doesn’t bite back at Jamie’s remark, uncharacteristic, too consumed in her thoughts.

“My father,” she starts, “he came back from his trip two days agao. I haven’t seen him in seven months.”

She takes a tentative sip and immediately hisses. “Too hot,” she pants, blowing out air and fanning her tongue.

Jamie tsks, “very well versed on manners, Lady Clayton”

“Forgive me, Jamie, as my manners seem to always leave me in your presence,” Dani swats at her, “you seem to have the habit of bringing out the most improper parts of me.”

“Very well, should you leave then? I would not be very lucky if I were caught soiling a noble lady.”

“Oh enough of that,” Dani smiles into her cup.

And there it is, Jamie smiles into hers. 

“My father hadn’t sent for me his first day back, and I wish he still hasn’t. But he did, and with his reunion comes awful news.”

Jamie’s features grow serious as she listens.

“He’s informed me that the time has come for me to be wed,” Dani says softly.

Jamie inhales sharply.

“I’ve been told I’m no longer allowed to keep avoiding my marriage. The young Sir Edmund O’Mara asked for my hand years ago, but I’d been able to convince my father to wait then. I’m afraid I can’t anymore. He says with every year that passes I become more of an embarrassment by remaining unwed. Sir Edmund is my good friend, one that I’ve known for a while, but I don’t wish to wed him,” she looks at Jamie with her furrowed brows.

“So I suggested a contest, an archery contest. I promised my father that I will marry the winning champion, regardless of who he may be. I will happily give him my hand in marriage.”

Jamie nods slowly, “I see.”

“So I’ve come to ask you for a favour,” Dani wrings her hands nervously.

“What can I do?” Jamie asks softly.

And never, in any of her years be it past or future, could she have been prepared for what Dani says.

“Can you disguise yourself as a man and win that archery contest?”

-

 _Watch this,_ Jamie pulled a stone on her slingshot and let it sail through the air.

The stone hit a tree trunk, fell to the ground and the noise scared the bird away. The bird that was on the branch just above Jamie’s head, completely off from where the stone hit. The bird that she was going to have for dinner.

 _Well that was impressive,_ Dani chuckled beside her.

 _I’m out of practice,_ Jamie shoved her shoulder, _my father’s bow is broken and I haven’t eaten properly in two weeks._

 _Oh,_ Dani said. 

And she made sure to ride her horse out to Jamie’s farm the very next day with a new bow and a sharp set of arrows from the blacksmith in town. 

_You didn’t have to do this,_ Jamie whispered softly when she handed them to her.

 _You’re my only true friend,_ Dani had insisted, _if you starve away, who’s going to be my friend?_

-

The day has come for the villagers of Truesiles to gather as witnesses of the archery tournament that’ll decide the fate of the marriage of Lady Danielle Clayton. Lord Clayton has demanded the structure of twenty large tents, each to be furnished with tables and chairs for his family and his noble guests, those from near and far. The wine was instructed to flow non-stop today, less of an order from Lord Clayton and more of an order from Dani. 

They are all gathered at the edge of the forest. The contestants are lined up with the trees. Dani spots Jamie at the outer edge of the line up and Sir Edmund dead in the center of it. Her father was not trying to be subtle about who he favours. 

“It’s about time I commence,” Dani’s father slurs more to himself than to her.

“One more drink for good fortune then,” Dani pours him another cup of wine herself, before he’s able to protest.

“My fortune and yours then,” and he downs his cup. 

Lord Clayton stands, subtly wobbly and he speaks loudly, subtly loose-lipped.

“People of Truesiles and our guests from far and wide and my, are there many of you,” he chuckles, flattery taken for himself and his riches more than Dani and her worth.

“I have returned from my travels recently and with me, a bird from further east. A falcon,” he announced, “faster than any I’ve seen before.”

The crowd murmurs as he rips the cloth off the bird cage next to him, revealing a falcon, similar to the one from their lands, but coloured differently than the people have ever seen before. It’s a sizable bird, one that can easily be recognized as a swift predator.

“I’ve attached a parchment to its leg,” he slowly pulls the bird out, “and marked it with ink.”

He lifts the bird on his gloved hand and yanks its head back with the leash harnessed around its body.

“I placed a matching mark on it’s chest,” he thrusts the bird into the open, “the one who can strike an arrow through the mark on the parchment and the one on the bird’s chest will have my daughter’s hand in marriage.” 

Dani’s breathing turns shallow as the reality sinks in. She never would have guessed the amount of contestants that would participate. There are more than fifty men on the tree line. She’s heard the villagers call her lucky, fortunate that word of her beauty has spread far. But Dani doesn’t feel lucky at all. Whether it be for the rumours of her beauty or not she knows that the men here have more lust for her father’s fortune than for her. She is his only heir, and these men will have their way with her and her inheritance as they please, and she will be left to live out the rest of her days serving their every desire.

Looking out, Dani can see arrow tips painted with the colours of many esteemed families. Sir Edmund’s is a golden yellow and Dani spots a distant cousin bearing their navy blue. She sees Jamie, and her heart slows for a moment. 

Jamie has a focused look on her face, her brows furrowed slightly and her jaw in a hardened clench. Dani sighs, sighs because Jamie helps her breathing slow down when she’s so anxious her heart might jump out. Sighs, because Jamie catches her eye across the field and gives her a small quirk of her lips, a quick smile gone unnoticed by any of the spectators, one that’s reserved for just Dani. Sighs, because as Dani smiles back, she sees the gray-tipped arrows strapped to Jamie’s back. 

Gray, the colour of those of no family or those of the lower class. And Jamie is both. Jamie is both because her father spent his last days in his bed, unable to get better or pass on, and her mother ran off with a nobleman from another town not long after he took his last breath. Both, because Dennis Lloyd the Second left home and joined the royal military in the inner kingdom and Michael Lloyd followed a few years after. Both, because they all took everything they could and left nothing for Jamie. Every last bit of the little her father worked for was spent on his dying days, and the rest was taken by Dennis when he left, and then Michael took the crumbs when it was his turn to go. 

They left the farm though, and the house on its land. Dennis chose to keep it in his name and not sell it, for when he decides to start a family. In the meantime, he allows Jamie to tend to his property, to take care of the land and maintain the house. She tends to the crops and sells them for enough to eat and enough to pay the Crown’s land taxes. 

It’s a modest living, an honest status, but one that Dani knows her father can never accept. And that is why he’s currently tipsy and on the way to drunk. 

She watches as her father releases the falcon into the woods.

“On my mark,” he booms loudly, “steady…” 

Dani’s pulse beats in anticipation.

“Proceed!”

Dani takes a deep breath and walks up, resting her hand around his elbow as they watch the men clamber over themselves on their chase for the falcon.

“Have a seat, father,” she tugs his arm gently, “I suspect it may take a while.”

She pours him another cup of wine and watches as he downs it quickly, desperate to quench his thirst from the hot summer day. 

-

Jamie runs quickly through the trees, the falcon in her sight as the sun shines brightly into her eyes. 

_Lord Clayton chose the brightest hour of the day,_ she had heard one man whisper to another, _to test the true skill of the champion._

And Jamie can understand why, with the harshness of the sun making it more and more difficult to look up and thus, more and more difficult to focus on the falcon. 

There are men in front of her, who Jamie uses as a sense of direction for when her eyes see too much of the sun, and there are men behind, who are quickly catching up on her heels. 

Suddenly, Jamie spots the flash of an arrow flying into the sky. It came somewhere from her far right, and it’s the first arrow sent from any of them. As if egged on by the initial arrow, most of the men around her immediately draw their arrows and shoot. They shoot as if that one arrow was threatening to them, and once a few of them started, others decide to join. 

“Fucking idiots,” Jamie mutters.

They’re idiots because now, not only does she have to dodge the sun shining directly into her eyes but also the falling arrows of the men behind her. As if that isn’t enough, the men in front of her are shooting too far and it’s causing the falcon to fly jerkily, delving from a predictable flight pattern. They’re idiots because they’re wasting their arrows, and Jamie almost laughs at the thought of it. 

It’s no matter, it’s good that they’re tiring the falcon anyway.

Jamie knows she’s not going to get a clear shot in the middle of the group. So she sprints, she slings her bow around her body and sprints as fast as she can, zipping between bodies and trees as she keeps an eye on the falcon zipping between the arrows shooting towards the sky.

She sprints, and it isn’t until she’s well past the group that she realizes. Sir Edmund is matching her quick strides to her right, the arrows on his back the same colour as the first one that flew. And then it clicks.

He started it on purpose. 

Sir Edmund calculated and he let that arrow fly at an extremely intentional time after the race had started. He waited. He waited for a time when he knew he couldn’t reach the falcon, but he knew enough anticipation had built up within the men that they would be easily startled to action. 

The realization made her nervous. Nervous because he’s clearly a strategic opponent. Nervous until she remembers what Dani had told her.

 _I suggested archery because I knew my father would agree,_ Dani said, _and he would agree because Sir Edmund is one of the best archers he knows._

_Fuck,_ Jamie whispered softly.

 _But that’s quite alright with me,_ Dani held her gaze, _because he doesn’t know you._

_You flattering me, Dani?_

And Dani’s cheeks hinted pink, _Sir Edmund’s a good archer but he’s only ever shot from the ground, or on horseback. I’ve seen you shoot from the trees._

 _That’s because I’ve had to shoot to survive,_ Jamie said.

 _Yes,_ Dani agreed, _and Sir Edmund has only had to shoot for training practice._

So Jamie thinks of that falcon, thinks of it as if it holds the same importance as if it is her last meal. Even then, it holds more importance to Dani as its fate will dictate every meal she has from here forth. And Jamie would be damned if lets Dani’s fate slip into anyone’s hand but one of her own choosing. 

Dani chose Jamie, and Jamie will do right by Dani.

Jamie glances quickly at Sir Edmund and grabs for one of her arrows. She takes aim, aims a little bit too far ahead of the falcon and let’s her arrow fly. Sir Edmund startles as her arrow comes close to the bird, closer than any of the arrows have been, he knows. But not close enough to be as accurate as Lord Clayton demanded, Jamie knows. 

She can’t help her smirk when he draws his arrow, aiming quick and shooting fast. Sir Edmund has succumbed to the pressure of his own game, feeling antsy when he realizes that it is only him and Jamie who are closest to the bird. The other men had been left far behind.

She keeps pace with him as he loads another arrow, keeps pace with him as he aims, but slips away unnoticed as he shoots. Sir Edmund, focused on his arrow and not Jamie, had simply thought that she fell behind. He doesn’t realize that she’s lept onto a tree. One that Jamie’s spotted from a distance away. One that she noticed has a thicker trunk than most of the trees they’ve passed. And one that Jamie predicts, because of the thickness of its trunk, is taller than any of the ones before. 

So when Sir Edmund was too focused on his shot to notice her movements, Jamie scaled the tree and climbed as fast as she could. She knew that if she takes too long, and the falcon gets too far away, she would lose her chance at accuracy. She would have to take time to climb down before she can resume her chase, and by then the falcon would be too far to catch up. 

Jamie took a risk, she knows it. It is a risk to stop chasing and start climbing as the falcon gets further away.

Jamie hopes she’s timed it perfectly, she hopes all the times she accidentally scared her dinner by firing a missing shot and then chasing until she finally got it was worth it. She climbs as high as the strength of the branches would allow her. 

She sees the falcon at her eye level, flying low between the treetops to keep itself out of the clear open sky, dodging the attacks from Sir Edmund’s arrows. 

_Funny,_ Jamie thinks. 

It’s funny because Sir Edmund happens to be the man that Lord Clayton has chosen for Dani. He’s supposed to be Jamie’s rival, her opponent. But it’s funny because, though he doesn’t notice, Sir Edmund is the one currently helping Jamie secure this bird.

Her legs grip tightly around the branch she’s perched on and Jamie draws her bow and arrow, slowly closing one eye as she takes aim, string pulled taught and arrow knocked. She slows her breathing, physically taming the movement of her heaving chest as she wills her heartbeat to slow with it. 

The wind stills and the falcon dips slightly, wings gliding atop the dying current and the parchment target on its leg fluttering lightly to a stillness. Jamie waits, listens and watches and breathes as the paper slowly settles.

And then the falcon dips a little lower and Jamie tilts her bow the slightest bit higher and it is the most fleeting moment before the mark flies into her line of aim when she releases. 

Jamie releases and she sees the bird immediately fall.

She quickly scurries down, her hands and face scraped by sharp twigs but she doesn’t feel it, her mind only focusing on where she saw that falcon drop. She hits the ground running, running until she sees Sir Edmund’s back.

He’s facing away from her, his bow on the ground by his feet. Both of his hands seem to be cradling something and he turns slowly when he hears Jamie clear her throat loudly.

“The wound on this bird cannot be replicated,” he says slowly. More to himself than to her.

And when he’s finally turned, Jamie feels her heart soar. Because there, in Sir Edmund’s arms lay the falcon with a gray-tipped arrow lodged through the parchment paper on its leg and out the mark on its chest.


	2. Chapter 2

“A…” Dani’s father stutters, “a fucking t-twink?”

And Dani almost laughs, almost, if not for the fact that she’s managed to get her father so drunk that he had just publicly referred to Jamie, the champion of the archery contest and her declared future husband, as a twink.

“What?” Jamie’s mouth drops open.

“Well,” Lord Clayton gestures his hand in her direction, “pardon me but you are quite an effeminate young man, and a small one at that.”

Jamie does look rather small, even smaller than usual if that’s possible, with her body engulfed in Dennis’ old clothing.

“One would think you fancy gentlemen,” Sir Edmund muttered loudly.

“Jealous I don’t fancy you then?” Jamie snaps back.

“No matter,” Lord Clayton slurs in between the two of them, “what family do you hail from?”

If Dani didn’t know she accomplished a drunk father before then she definitely knows now. Lord Clayton was staring directly at Jamie’s face when he asked her.

Directly at her face. Which is right beside the tips of her arrows strapped to her back. The tips painted gray. The same as the gray-tipped arrow that he’s currently holding with his falcon on it. 

“Um, Lloyd, my Lord.”

“Lloyd,” Lord Clayton mutters, “I’ve never heard of a Lloyd.”

“I live at the edge of town,” Jamie offers.

And Dani watches silently as the pieces click, not to her father, mind the alcohol. But definitely to Sir Edmund. 

“A peasant,” he states slowly, turning to look at Jamie, “only peasants live at the edge of town.”

“A farmer,” Jamie corrects.

“A farmer is a peasant nonetheless!” Lord Clayton booms to Sir Edmund’s satisfaction.

“A farmer who is a master archer,” Dani finally speaks, “an archer who has proved to be the most skilled in the land. A champion who you promised my hand, father.”

Jamie looks at Dani and Dani looks at Jamie and for some reason Jamie can’t, for the love of her, look away.

“A farmer who’s rightfully won Lady Danielle’s hand in marriage, my Lord,” she finally repeats.

“You of no name, no family, and not a single coin,” Lord Clayton starts, “you dare to ask for my daughter’s hand?”

And Jamie feels cold with dread.

“You are correct, my Lord,” Sir Edmund pipes up from beside her, “Lady Danielle is of noble status, her life should not be sullied by becoming a peasant’s bride.”

The crowd murmurs softly around them.

“Father-,” Dani tries softly.

“I agree, Sir Edmund. I cannot allow this to happen.”

“My Lor-” Dani almost panics.

“You must take me for a fool,” Lord Clayton saunters wobbly towards Jamie, a finger pointing in her face.

And Jamie turns quickly, “my Lady Danielle,” she addresses Dani, “my Lady, I believe you were interrupted.”

Dani’s panicked eyes find Jamie’s and she wills for calmness through her gaze.

“Right,” Dani gathers quickly herself, “My Lord, I believe all who are here today have witnessed your declaration that the one whose arrow pierces your target will be gifted my hand in marriage.”

The murmurs around them get louder.

“He is a farmer. One who has fed us for many years, like all the farmers of this town. One who I am grateful for, and thankful for, as a noble woman who has lived off the backs of these farmers my whole life.”

Lord Clayton turns slowly to regard his daughter.

“He is a master archer. One who has won our contest fair and justly. As I promised, I will give my hand to him and remain true to my word.”

_As you should remain true to yours,_ she doesn’t say but he hears it. 

She doesn’t say it but he hears the villagers around them and he feels the eyes of his esteemed guests. His guests who he has hopes to secure future financial alliances with, ones who must be able to trust his commitment to his word as a judgement for his character. Lord Clayton sobers up suddenly, as he thinks the situation over. There’s something off about Dani’s willingness, and almost advocacy, for this peasant. There’s something smart about the way she’s handling the situation, a bit too smart.

“They’ve taught you quite a lot about character while I was away,” he says finally.

He looks at Jamie coldly, “how shall I refer to you, peasant of no reputable name?”

“Jamie Lloyd, my Lord,” Jamie bows slightly.

“You can be Jamie Clayton after we wed,” Dani speaks up, “then you will bear an esteemed family name.”

_And no one can step on you again,_ Dani thinks angrily.

“A man taking a Lady’s name,” Sir Edmund chuckles, “have you no shame?”

“No,” Jamie answers boldly, “a man should feel shame if he cowers under his bride’s power, her intelligence, her prestige. He should feel shame if he loses himself to his insecurity, choosing to drag her into starvation with him instead of allowing her to flourish, instead of choosing to bear witness to her greatness. That is not a man, Sir Edmund, that is a coward.”

He gapes at her silently.

“I do not feel shame to take your name, Lady Danielle, but I do feel proud. Proud that my bride is a woman whose humanity proceeds her class and whose character far proceeds her status.”

And _well,_ Dani smiles softly at Jamie. 

This game of politics has just gotten a little more interesting. 

-

_Oi, lad! You, in the blue._

Dani whipped her head around to look for the voice. A woman’s, young.

_You fancy buying some fruit for the family you’re serving?_

And then Dani spotted her, a woman quite different from any of the ones she’s seen before. She was wearing trousers, for starters, trousers and a shirt that was a few sizes too large. 

Dani almost chided herself, _I’m wearing trousers too._

And a hat, to cover her hair. The difference, Dani realized, between her and that young woman was that she was wearing trousers as a disguise and the woman was wearing trousers as herself. 

That was quite peculiar, and Dani was intrigued. 

_I haven’t seen you around before,_ the woman said as she approached her stall.

_I usually work in the castle,_ Dani replied.

_The castle of Truesiles?_ The woman whistled, and then, mischievously, _so what’s it like inside then, go on._

Dani laughed, _it’s more of a glorified manor, if I’m being quite honest._

And the woman gasped loudly, _speak ill of your masters and you’ll surely receive punishment._

She leaned forward, eyes twinkling as she whispered close to Dani’s ear, _but don’t you worry, I know who you are and I’ll never tell a soul._

Dani looked at her quickly, _you know who I am?_ She hushed out in a whisper.

_Why of course I do, I’ve only seen your face once from afar but your beauty hasn’t left my memory since._

Then Dani thinks maybe she didn’t know, for if she had known Dani’s true identity, she wouldn’t have spoken so brazenly as if she were teasing a suitor. 

_And where have you seen me?_ Dani questioned curiously.

_Why,_ the woman leaned in close and low again, _on horseback, carrying bags of grain to the farmers of course. That one winter, the harshest one I’ve known yet, I remember seeing you._

And Dani’s eyes widened in surprise, _who are you?_ She questioned softly.

_Jamie,_ the woman replied simply.

_Jamie…_ Dani trailed off.

_Just Jamie,_ Jamie had said.

_Just Jamie,_ Dani felt in her mouth, _how can you recognize me?_

_Easy,_ Jamie smirked, _for one, you are too beautiful to forget. And two,_ Jamie sulked her shoulders and fiddled her thumbs, _you walk as if you’ve never been a lad before._

_Well, I haven’t!_ Dani whispered at her, _where would I have learned to do that?_

_Here,_ Jamie pulled Dani behind her fruit stall, _by watching._

And the two of them had spent that entire day at the village square selling fruit and studying men until it was time for Jamie to load what was left of her fruit onto a wheelbarrow and pull it home. 

_How can I see you again?_ Dani asked.

_Come find me at this fruit stall,_ Jamie replied.

And Dani did, the day after and the day after that.

-

“So you think I’m a master archer?” Jamie asks her teasingly, “you think I’m the most skilled in the land?”

“And a twink, apparently,” Dani laughs quietly, “I can’t believe that happened.”

Dani had snuck into Jamie’s room after her father retired for the night. She waited until all of the servants headed down to their quarters and then she made the quiet walk through the halls of the castle to the opposite wing. As a testament to how much he opposed Jamie, Lord Clayton had ordered her room prepared in the coldest part of the castle, the room that is quite literally the furthest possible room from Dani’s.

Dani had slipped in unnoticed, greeted by the sight of Jamie in just a white sleep shirt under the candle light. Jamie, in an extremely sheer white shirt that would’ve shown her, well everything, if she were under the sun. And when Dani realized, she was glad they weren’t under the sun, else Jamie would be able to see the deep red on Dani’s cheeks that went way down into her, well everything. 

“Ow,” Jamie protests softly, wincing as she turns to look at Dani.

“I’m sorry,” Dani mutters a few times, “I didn’t know you’d get hurt.”

She dips her finger in the medicinal cream that her father brought back from his travels. She peppers it softly onto the small cuts on Jamie’s face. On her forehead, her chin, but mostly on her cheeks. The scratches are raised on the curves of her soft cheekbones and the hollows where her cheeks dip in underneath. 

Jamie watches as Dani’s furrowed eyebrows fret over her face. 

“I’m not hurt,” she says, “I’m a farmer, I’ve been through worse.”

And it’s supposed to make her feel better, but when Jamie catches her eyes, Dani’s brows are more furrowed than before.

“I won’t let you get hurt again,” Dani says with sincerity, “you won’t be hurt again, I promise.”

Jamie tsks quietly, “you can’t make that promise, Dani. Who knows what will happen from here? I feel like I’ve just entered a very dangerous game of chess with your father.”

“Oh you definitely have,” Dani looks at her intensely, “but I’ll protect you through it.”

“Because I’ll be your husband?”

Dani hums, “and because you’re my dearest friend.”

-

The day of the wedding has arrived and Dani knows it’s only a ruse but her heart beats anxiously in her chest anyway. If all goes well, Dani will be freed by the end of the day, forever tied with Jamie, but freer than she’s ever been.

She knew her father wanted to keep the wedding small, almost a secret, almost as if he were ashamed to give Dani to Jamie. Dani knew, and she also knew of the cunning and devious ploys that can happen at small, secret events that don’t bear enough witnesses.

And so, _a stroll around town, father,_ Dani had suggested, _the wedding day draws nearer and I have yet to know my husband. I’d like to see him without the presence of servants and maids, to really know his character._

Lord Clayton had hesitated, _it is a reasonable request, Danielle. But for a reason I have not yet drawn out, I feel I do not trust this man._

_I hear your concern, father. But the day will be bright and the townspeople will be plentiful. There will be nothing he can do to me that he won’t after we wed._

_By God, Danielle,_ Lord Clayton gagged, _don’t ever make me picture you and that man in that way again._

And _interesting,_ Dani had thought, _what an interesting reaction._

But no matter, as daughters could be convincing and fathers could cave, Lord Clayton eventually agreed. 

_Send for Jamie the Archer immediately,_ Dani ordered the moment she left his study.

Then Jamie and Dani had snuck out the kitchen in their servant blue uniforms and headed directly into the town square.

_The Lady Danielle does not love him!_ Dani exclaimed loudly.

_And who should she love then,_ Jamie jeered louder, _you?_

_I don’t dare to hope, but I will dare to try._

_You wouldn’t dare,_ Jamie shoved her hard and Dani tumbled against the baker’s stall.

_Oi!_ He yelled, _watch where you’re going, lad!_

_He can’t,_ Jamie laughed, _he seems to have gone blind from love for Lady Danielle._

_Lady Danielle Clayton?_ A maid at the village fountain gasped audibly, eyes looking up from the laundry in her hands, _but she is to be wed to the champion archer!_

_Not if I can help it,_ Dani exclaimed, _I must stop the wedding._

Jamie gasped, _you wouldn’t dare!_

_I will!_ Dani slammed her fist on the roof of the next stall, pulling out the sweaty butcher from the back of her shop.

_You breaking my roof, boy?_ She glowered angrily.

_What is a broken roof to my broken heart?_ Dani wailed madly.

_You won’t have a mind to think about a broken heart once I break your head in,_ the butcher roared loudly, _touch my roof again and I’ll sell your parts back to the Castle of Truesiles, myself!_

And Dani heard Jamie snicker behind her, _please forgive him,_ as she grabbed Dani’s arm and yanked her closer to the village center. 

_You should know better than to tempt a butcher if you wish to have the right remains to fight for Lady Danielle._

Dani had to hold in her grin as they passed the open windows of the inn, her eyes catching those of the server whose mouth had dropped open to stare at her in shock.

_LEAVE ME BE,_ Dani wailed as they neared the town center, _ON AUGUST THE 3RD, THREE WEEKS FROM NOW AT THE CHURCH OF TRUESILES I WILL FIGHT TO MY DEATH FOR LADY DANIELLE’S HAND IN MARRIAGE._

Jamie snickered, _YOU MUST BE CAREFUL, FOR IF JAMIE THE ARCHER HEARS ABOUT THIS HE WILL SURELY HAVE YOUR HEAD._

_THEN LET HIM TRY,_ Dani screamed, _LET HIM TRY TO STOP ME AT THE CHURCH OF TRUESILES ON AUGUST 3RD THREE WEEKS FROM NOW AT THE WEDDING OF LADY DANIELLE CLAYTON._

And well, Dani was never one for attention but she knows for certain that her wedding will have the attendance of all the townspeople. If not to witness the wedding of the Lady of Truesiles then to witness the demise of the mad servant in love with the Lady. 

-

Dani’s hand trembles lightly on her father’s arm as he leads her to the doors of the church.

“If you have any doubts, Danielle,” he looks at her sternly, “you must speak them now and I will call off the wedding.”

Lord Clayton looks like he’s begging her with his eyes and she can’t help but wonder.

If it were Sir Edmund O’Mara standing in the church waiting for her instead, would her father offer her the same option? If Dani’s hands shivered the same way and her nails started picking at one another, would he be saying the same?

And Dani knows the answer, she knows that regardless of who stood at the end of the altar, her father would only ever offer her an out if he was inconvenienced in some way, her consent having nothing to do with it. So with her resolve steeled, Dani wills the beating of her heart to slow, slow like her exhales, slow like time as she waits at the church doors.

Then the organ plays. Then Dani’s hand steadies itself on Lord Clayton’s arm. And then the servants push open the church doors and Dani gasps. 

Gasps, because of the strong expletives exiting Lord Clayton’s mouth, quiet enough to be private but close enough for Dani to hear. Gasps, because she had expected the whole town to show up, but looking into the church pews and along the walls there are many faces that Dani can’t recognize, knowing that she’s never seen them before. It seems that not only do they have the attendance of all the citizens of Truesiles but also the ones from at least two full towns nearby. Dani can see a crowd of people out every window, straining their necks to see inside. But then that all goes away. And Dani inhales sharply as her eyes finally land forward. 

“Jamie,” she breathes softly.

And Jamie was standing at the front of the church, her curly hair combed-back, out of her face for the first time Dani’s ever seen it. She dons a deep, navy blue, blue for the Clayton family colour and blue for Dani’s eyes.

_I’ve always known blue would be your colour._

_Because I’m from House Clayton?_

_No,_ Jamie had said offhandedly, _it just looks good with your eyes._

_Oh,_ Dani’s eyes soften on her back.

_Even if you weren’t Lady Clayton, I’d still think blue looks best when it’s closest to you._

Jamie catches her eyes and grins, her shoulders back and spine straight.

_This is ridiculous, father!_ Dani exclaimed.

_I will not be made a fool, Danielle. He must do as I say._

_But this is humiliating!_

The two of them were head to head, fuming ears and glaring eyes, and Jamie felt awful for the tailor between them.

_My Lord-_ the tailor tried to speak.

_He is my husband and I wish to see my husband as he is on my wedding day! You will not have him paraded around in a padded suit from head to toe like a stuffed hunting trophy._

_My Lady-_ she tried, she really did.

_He is a man the size of a boy! No, a girl!_ Lord Clayton bellowed, jabbing his finger at Jamie, _I will not be a laughing stock so you can stand across from your child-sized husband on your wedding day!_

_Shoulder pads-_ the tailor started weakly.

_You,_ Lord Clayton glared at Jamie, _tell her what she needs to hear._

And Jamie had looked at where his chin was pointed and smiled sweetly at Dani.

_My Lady,_ her eyes twinkled, _your every desire shall be my doing. Afterall, every man was once bestowed with these wise words: happy wife, happy life._

Dani finally makes it to Jamie and every atom in her body works harder than it’s ever worked before to stop her from throwing herself at the other woman.

“You look beautiful,” Jamie whispers to her.

“I’m speaking,” the Priest snaps at Jamie.

And Dani watches as she swallows her snicker, her lips held tightly together to stop her face from letting out a laugh.

Dani watches and, oh.

The Priest lulls on and she vaguely hears his sudden silence when Jamie starts looking at her. Really looking at her, more than before. She’s looking at her, eye to eye, and she’s stepping closer. Closer than they ever had before as Dani’s lower back is guided by Jamie’s hands, and then they are even closer. 

Jamie traces the bridge of Dani’s nose with her own as she leans forward, her nose nudging itself under Dani’s as she moves closer to her lips. Closer than they ever had been before. 

“Kiss me,” Jamie whispers softly.

And then Dani’s every atom was surging forward, hands on Jamie’s cheeks, her jaw, her neck. Palms on Jamie’s shoulders, her strong feminine shoulders. Dani’s arms pull closer and closer until Jamie’s shoulders are her own and Jamie’s lips are hers too.

She feels Jamie’s soft kiss, chaste and sweet against her lips. She feels it, she does, but then she’s gripping Jamie’s lower lip with her teeth and lips and tongue and Jamie’s responding with a bite for every bite and a tongue for every brush and Jamie’s kissing her back!

Dani feels and, _oh._

_Oh._


	3. Chapter 3

“Danielle,” Lord Clayton nods curtly from his desk, “I have not seen nor heard from you in the past two weeks ever since you attempted to swallow your husband whole in front of the entire town of Truesiles.”

“Father,” Dani tries.

“Do you know what a boa constrictor is, Danielle?” He asks.

Dani swallows, not knowing where this is going, “no.”

“A boa constrictor is a type of snake that I’ve stumbled upon during my travels overseas. It’s not venomous, like we fear snakes to be. No, it actually constricts its prey with it’s entire body, wrapping its length around and squeezing until the very last breath. Once it realizes its prey is dead, only then will it unhinge its jaw and swallow the prey whole, did you know this? Danielle?”

“No, father,” she replies, confused but respectful nonetheless.

“That was what you looked like. You looked like you were ready to swallow Jamie whole in front of the church and if it were not for the Priest’s interruption, may God seriously bless him, I’m inclined to believe that you might actually have.”

“Father-,” Dani lets out in embarrassment.

“It’s fine,” he interrupts, “as long as I don’t have to see evidence of this myself, you both may still reside within this castle.”

He looks at her, “just far, far away from me.”

“Yes, father,” Dani nods, face red and eyes downcast, “I would like to speak with you about that, actually.”

“What is it?”

“I request your permission for Jamie and I to permanently reside in Bly manor, our summer home,” she starts tentatively, “I have not frequented since I was young and it has not been purposed as anything other than an asset that remains empty.”

“Absolutely not,” Lord Clayton immediately announces.

Dani startles, “may I ask why?”

“He came to me on his hands and knees with no name, no family, no fortune. Was it not enough that I gave you to him? What more could he possibly want from me? Shall I grant him an entire mansion now too, then?”

And Dani fights so hard to keep her eyes from rolling that she can not physically allow another word to slip past her lips. She bows politely and exits his study, hands clenched in fists and feet stomping all the way to Jamie’s room on the far side of the castle, where they’ve been banished it seems. 

She throws their door open to witness a sight that she never thought she’d see.

Dani’s personal group of maids are currently clawing at her wardrobe and the wardrobe doors, though it’s never had a lock, are tightly closed and not budging.

“Lord Jamie, please,” one of them pleaded.

“No,” a muffled voice argues from within the wardrobe.

“But my Lord, we must help you out of your armour,” another one reasons.

“Lady Danielle will not be pleased!” The voice inside the wardrobe pleads.

“My Lor-”

“Enough,” Dani silences the maids, their claws, and Jamie in a closet, “you are all dismissed.”

“Yes, my Lady.”

And with that, Dani is left alone with Jamie who is also alone because she’s very trapped inside the wardrobe that she can’t seem to get out of.

“Hey,” Dani lightly jiggles the doors, “it’s just me.”

“Oh thank God,” Jamie’s muffled groan squeezes out, “back away from the wardrobe now, alright? I may have accidentally locked myself in and I didn’t want to admit it to them.”

Dani starts to chuckle as she backs away and it completely halts in her throat as Jamie’s armour cladded foot kicks open the wardrobe doors and she emerges in full armour from neck to toe, a helmet cradled in her arm. She watches silently as Jamie steps out, baby hair wet against her forehead and metal chest plate shifting subtly with every breath. She watches so silently that she doesn’t realize she’s mouth-half-open gaping and fully staring at an unknowing Jamie.

“You’d think they would make these easier to take off for practicality, no?” Jamie asks absent mindedly as her gauntlet-encased hands swat uselessly at the countless metal clasps and buckles encasing her body.

“Here,” Dani swallows, “let me help you.”

“I hoped you would, I didn’t want your maids to see my goodies,” Jamie’s eyes dance with laughter, “else they’d realize I’m a woman.”

Dani makes her way over to Jamie and runs her hands along the side of the woman’s chest plate. Her fingers dip, and she jokingly yanks Jamie closer. She misjudges, however, not remembering that Jamie has never worn metal armour before. She’s never worn any kind of armour and hence, Jamie’s usual sturdy and balanced stance slams right into Dani’s front. 

Their eyes meet and they giggle.

“Being discovered a woman should be the least of your worries,” Dani’s fingers start busying themselves with the clasps of Jamie’s shoulder guards.

“Oh should it?”

“Haven’t you heard? The castle has been swimming with rumours that Lady Danielle is an extremely jealous woman. So jealous and possessive of her husband that she did not allow him to leave their bed for two whole weeks after their wedding night.”

Jamie throws her head back as she laughs, knowing exactly who started that rumour.

And Dani’s mind halts as she realizes how close they are. So close that she can see Jamie’s subtle pulse on her neck and the sweat glistening on it. So close that Dani instinctively takes a half step back, her eyes refusing to meet Jamie’s and her mind refusing to focus on anything but the metal armour in front of her.

The metal armour that she’s currently unraveling to reveal Jamie’s body covered in fabrics clinging onto its every curve from sweat. Fuck.

Dani’s realized, sometime within the past two weeks, that she’s been feeling some kind of way about Jamie lately. Specifically, ever since their kiss in the church. The kiss Dani’s not talking about because it’s just part of the ruse. The kiss that had her sucking on Jamie’s face with a lot more hunger and need than what was necessary for the ruse. The kiss that Jamie thankfully hasn’t brought up and Dani hopes she never does because she has no idea how to explain herself or face her embarrassment afterwards. 

“So, um,” Dani eventually clears her throat, “what did you get up to today?”

“You father assigned me a knight. A lady knight.”

“Oh?”

“I think he did it to emasculate me,” Jamie shakes her head slightly, “he said he found a lady knight to train me because I wouldn’t be able to handle a ‘real one.’ I can’t even begin to list the amount of things wrong with that.”

Dani finally looks up at Jamie, at her furrowed brows and angry jaw. 

“You hate it here, don’t you?”

And Jamie sighs softly from her nose, “I do, Dani. I’m sorry, I’ve been trying but I really do.”

“Don’t be sorry Jamie,” Dani’s hands cup Jamie’s face and coax her eyes, “you have to be somebody else the whole time you’re here, of course you hate it.”

“Not the whole time,” Jamie mumbles.

“What was that?”

“Right now,” she finally looks at her, “with you, I’m me. I’m always me with you, even when we’re doing this routine for other people. Even when I’m him, with you I’m me.”

And Dani’s head ducks down, forehead against Jamie’s shoulders, tucking the pink on her face and the swell of her heart into Jamie’s body and away from her eyes.

“I’m getting us out of here, I promise.” 

-

“Most knights would choose the broad sword.”

Jamie squints at Lady Rebecca, the knight responsible for her training. The knight who Lord Clayton is paying to quickly catch her up to speed so his son in law can officially become a knight, if not a nobleman. Someone of title, even if that title is paid for.

“It is important to view your weapon as an extension of your body, but most knights choose the broadsword because it makes them think of their penises. The bigger and heavier the sword, the bigger the ego, not much to say about their actual penises though.”

And Jamie can’t help it when her eyebrows shoot to her hairline on their own accord. Because Lady Rebecca Jessel is a lady, yes, but she has also been knighted years ago and she quite frankly does not give a shit about being or speaking like a proper lady anymore. 

“I, however, do not have a penis and thus, I am not foolish enough to fall prey to the idea that the bigger the sword the better the knight.”

Lady Rebecca quickly rips out the dual daggers hanging against her hips. They’re completely identical, both the full length of her arm and sharper than her mind. 

“You are not a big man, Lord Jamie.”

And to that, Jamie has to nod because she really is not a big man.

“It would only slow you down and tire you unnecessarily to use a broadsword. I would suggest you use your body and the athletic abilities it offers to your advantage. You would do well to choose a weapon that is swift, and not too heavy, one that will serve as an advantage for your body type.”

Jamie couldn’t agree more. She’s only ever practiced with a bow and arrow, which Lord Clayton deems is not enough, and so she hasn’t had much practice using very heavy equipment or weapons. She’s small, and contrary to everyone’s beliefs, she’s already known before they all made it a point to tell her. She’s also fast, faster than any broadsword could swing, and judging from Lady Rebecca’s experience and expertise, she already knew that.

“It would do you well to not let your manhood cloud your judgement.”

“You’re absolutely right, ma’am,” Jamie nods. It’s the first thing that anyone outside of Dani has said to her that actually makes sense ever since she became Lord Jamie Clayton.

“We will practice with every kind of weapon from the state granted inventory until you find one that you’d like to choose for yourself. By then, you will become well versed with anything you happen to pick up in your hands, is that understood?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

And so Jamie’s training for knighthood commences. The usual path to knighthood starts with being a squire, attending to an established knight’s every need. But as Lord Clayton has made clear, families with money can buy their way into knighthood, almost skipping all the internship steps and only training from the best.

_That’s why knights like Sir Edmund have never served anyone for a day in their lives and you can tell,_ Dani had said to her.

Jamie is the young Lord Clayton now, so she must not stoop down for anyone else and must only train from the best. And yet not the ultimate best, in Lord Clayton’s eyes, else she’d train under Sir Edmund and she would rather eat literal dirt everyday than do that. No, Lord Clayton chose a knight who is prestigious enough to be respected on the battlefield but also low ranking enough to humiliate Jamie. He chose Lady Rebecca Jessel, who was a noblewoman until she burned all her dresses, threw on her father’s armour, and left to join the royal military. If she were a man, her many conquests on the battlefield would have gained her a promotion to the rank of Commander by now. But alas, Lady Rebecca has been cursed with their world’s treatment of women, and a woman of colour at that, and thus her rank remains that of a novice knight.

“Today we will start with hand-to-hand combat,” her command rings out, “for your weapon is an extension of your limbs and thus, you must learn to control your limbs on their own first.”

So Jamie and Lady Rebecca spend the whole day sparring hand to hand, fist to fist. And the other knights that walk by would give them an audible snicker, some even a derogatory holler. But Jamie pays them no mind and neither does Lady Rebecca, as she’s heard worse from her years of service. 

Jamie tells it to no one besides Dani later, but she’s secretly very glad that she’s trained by Lady Rebecca. All knighthood, all strength and tactics and skill, and no bullshit. Just how she likes it.

-

“So I’ve heard a rumour,” Jamie slowly pushes open their bedroom door, “that Lady Danielle has threatened to cut off the hands of any maid who tries to undress Lord Jamie.”

“Mhm,” Dani hums from her perch at her vanity, “and the servants, too.”

“The servants?” Jamie gasps in exaggeration. 

“Yes, I’m afraid that Lord Jamie is too pretty and I cannot trust another man or woman to undress him. It’s a task I must do myself.”

Jamie turns to shut the door behind her, officially blocking out anyone who isn’t Dani and Jamie, just how she likes it. She slowly makes her way to Dani, watching the way the woman tracks her movements through her vanity mirror, eyes meeting eyes and Jamie’s lips in a smirk.

“What are you up to?” She asks, when she’s finally close enough to see over Dani’s shoulder. 

“Just a letter I’m writing for you,” Dani shrugs nonchalantly, “something I’m hoping my father would find.”

“Oh,” Jamie chuckles nervously, “what does it say?”

“Well wouldn’t you like to know,” and Dani winks at her through the mirror.

Jamie stands silently behind Dani for a while, her hands finding their way to rest on the other woman’s shoulders at one point, and her eyes following the tight loops of Dani’s handwriting. She watches as Dani swirls the tip of her feathered quill in ink, and then scratches it elegantly across a parchment. She watches as Dani writes, fine words flowing onto paper as her hand bobs steadily. She watches as Dani stops suddenly, and catches her eyes in the mirror.

“I’m tired,” she announces, “let’s go to bed.”

And that’s the trickiest part of all of this so far, Jamie thinks. Because every night Dani would undress her slowly before bed, fingers brushing gently against clasps on her neck and shoulders and waist. Her hands are always lingering, long enough for Jamie to notice but not long enough for her to mention. 

Then Jamie would turn Dani around by her waist and slowly unravel the strings on her corset. Though Dani has been clothed by maids her whole life and has no risks of accidentally exposing a secret identity, neither of them mention it. Neither of them suggest anything otherwise. Neither of them comment on how natural it is for Dani to undress Jamie everynight, for Dani to take care of her. And then Jamie would take care of Dani and it all just feels so natural, yet nerve wracking at the same time.

The worst part, certainly, is after they’ve shed their lavish attire. It comes after they slip under the sheets on opposite sides of the bed. It comes after they’ve both settled into their separate sides, both consciously choosing to leave a respectable distance between them. It comes after Dani’s fallen into a light slumber and Jamie’s still awake, not used to living in a castle or sleeping on a mattress yet. 

The worst part of this whole ruse is when Dani instinctively seeks out Jamie’s body in the middle of the night, when she’s too asleep to notice and too cold to hold back. It’s when Jamie’s stuck laying stiff on her back as Dani slowly inches towards her until her nose is nudged into Jamie’s hair and her arm rests warmly on Jamie’s side and her leg’s thrown over Jamie’s as if she were, well, a boa constrictor. 

It’s when Jamie’s truly left with her own thoughts and herself, no maids, no servants, no nobleman or knights to impress, no Dani to confide in, that she becomes plagued with these _thoughts._

Thoughts of Dani with her soft eyes for Jamie and cold glares for everyone else. Thoughts of Dani with her playful laughs with Jamie and stern words with anyone else. Thoughts of Dani with her hand dangerously close to the side of Jamie’s breast. Thoughts of Dani and the way Jamie can feel the warmth between her legs on Jamie’s thigh and how, every time Dani nuzzles closer for body heat, Jamie realizes how much more of her she can feel.

And Jamie doesn’t know what to make of all this, you see. Because right now they are by themselves, no other eyes bear witness, and yet Dani still treats her with the same affection that she gives to Lord Jamie. 

And she’s afraid. 

Afraid because she doesn’t know how Dani would react if she were to ever find out how their bodies fit at night when there are no witnesses and no one to pretend for. Afraid because Dani will pull away because Dani doesn’t want her. 

Jamie knows that their arrangement is beneficial to them both. Dani can maintain her independence and control over her life and Jamie no longer has to worry about when something will go wrong and she’ll have to starve for a few days. 

So Jamie always wakes earlier, the farmer taken from the field but never from herself, and detangles them gently. She makes sure that when Dani wakes up, she’s either already gone, already dressed, or well curled far into her side of the bed. 

She makes sure that Dani never realizes how intimate they are in the dark, just their two bodies. And thus she makes sure Dani never realizes how much that affects her.


	4. Chapter 4

“AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!”

Dani drops the scroll in her hands and smirks. Judging from the direction of the scream, _well, shriek,_ she might know exactly where to go looking for the commotion. 

“Is everything alright, father?” Dani’s question reaches Jamie’s study before she does and it takes everything in her to keep her from bursting out in laughter. 

Lord Clayton is currently behind Jamie’s desk, his eyes wide and hands braced heavily on the wooden table in shock. 

“Your husband,” he slowly raises his eyes to reach Dani’s, “I’m so sorry Danielle, but I’m afraid your husband is having an affair.”

And Dani’s heart stops, _wait, what?_ This is not what she had planned. This is not what she’s been anticipating. This is not what Jamie would do to her, _would she?_

She’s so shocked she can’t move and Lord Clayton takes pity on her, with her eyes staring at him but blinking blankly, almost thoughtless. He gathers himself and makes his way over, a parchment held towards her shakily. 

“I’m so sorry,” he pats her hesitantly on the shoulder, “my sweet daughter, I’m so sorry.”

If Dani is any less shocked she might be able to register this moment as the most affectionate interaction that she’s ever had with her father, but right now she can’t think. She can’t think of anything besides the fact that Jamie is with someone else.

Jamie, who she’s always assumed she knew inside and out, the only other mind she’s memorized besides her own. Jamie, whose thoughts and feelings she’s learned almost as if they are patterned behaviour instead of Jamie’s pure reactions to the everyday experiences of life. Jamie, whose fears and anxieties Dani has come to claim for her own, after years of witnessing the farmer struggle independently, refusing to seek help to not position herself as a burden. Dani knows Jamie’s secret ambitions, dreams that she spoke in embarrassment only for Dani’s ears. Dreams that she deemed unrealistic, pathetically delusional for a peasant girl that she only let out after splitting two bottles of Dani’s stolen wine. 

_I want a family,_ Jamie had whispered across their picnic blanket.

It was the middle of the afternoon, the sun was casting them shade from the tree Dani was leaning against. Jamie was stretched out, eyes closed in content, dusty overalls half on the blanket and mud-caked boots thrown over the grass. Her fields awaited her but Dani’s free alcohol and convincing smile had her caving. She had an arm under her head, a hand that tapped lightly on her stomach, and a soft, tipsy breeze that sighed out between her slightly pink cheeks. 

_I know mine is fucked up,_ she chuckled, _it’s so fucked up._

Dani didn’t speak. She didn’t move. She was drunk, but she was listening.

_And I don’t know why. It’s not like I haven’t tried, to not, you know?_

Jamie asked her a question, but she wasn’t looking at her. She asked her a question, but she wasn’t looking for an answer. And Dani understood.

_I don’t know why, it’s not like I can make a better one. How can I? I’d only make something more fucked up._

Jamie took a breath. Then she took another. And another and another until she just grabbed another wine bottle and took another swig. 

_I want a wife._

Dani stopped breathing.

 _I’ve never told anyone that before._ Then she laughed into the mouth of another swig.

She curled onto her side, her arms held close to her chest and her knees tucked in after them, a drunken slumber took her over. Dani stayed awake, suddenly too sober and awake and aware. 

She’s always been Dani’s Jamie. Dani’s Jamie who she never realized is actually somebody else’s Jamie. 

Lord Clayton presses the parchment into her hand and Dani understands how something so fragile can cut so deep. 

“It’s a letter,” Lord Clayton breaks the silence, “he wrote it for his mistress.”

And Dani feels the air leave her lungs and her chest drop so suddenly that her recovering gasp is concerning. 

_Jamie can’t write. Jamie can’t even fucking read._

She lifts the parchment and spots, _my beloved,_ in her own loopy cursive. A flood of relief pools down her entire body. 

“T-This is actually mine,” Dani finally stammers.

Lord Clayton squeaks, “he wrote this for you!?”

And Dani is shameless but she does have the decency to be embarrassed. 

“I wrote it,” she manages, cheeks red and eyes cast downwards. “I wrote it for him.”

And she doesn’t blame her father, she really doesn’t. She doesn’t blame him one bit for leaving without another word and purposefully making the effort to avoid her.

Dani looks down at her letter again.

_My Beloved,_

_I can’t stop thinking about you. I can’t stop thinking about the way you feel._

_The way you taste._

_I can’t stop thinking about how you look underneath me, the way your body feels, the way you move when I’m inside._

_I need to be inside you again. I need to feel the way you grip on my fingers and my tongue._

_Always thinking of you. Always wanting to be close to you._

_Your Love._

And Dani really can’t blame her father for reacting the way that he did because she really did just make him think that she likes to peg her husband in the ass. 

-

“You um, you can be with anyone you know that right?” Dani whispers to the darkness of their ceiling.

Jamie’s eyes widen, “yeah. You too, of course.”

And then there’s silence. There’s silence and Jamie can feel Dani thinking but for the first time, she feels like she shouldn’t ask for her thoughts. She feels like she can’t. Because for the first time, Dani has brought up the concept of another, of someone else.

Jamie should’ve seen this coming. She should have known that this would creep up on her all along because Dani wants independence and freedom so she married Jamie but she must also want love. She must. She must want to love and be loved and that’s why she’s finally bringing this up. And suddenly there’s sadness. Sadness, and a deep sense of guilt. Because if Dani’s officially with Jamie under the eyes of God and the law and the people then she wouldn’t be able to be with anyone she truly loves. 

“Just,” Jamie starts, “if you- when you find someone, just let me know and I can disappear, alright?”

There’s silence and Jamie can’t tell if Dani’s already asleep or if she’s choosing to keep quiet. For the first time, she doesn’t want to ask. 

When Dani finally nuzzles into her later that night, Jamie holds on for dear life. She doesn’t tell herself it’s for warmth, she doesn’t tell herself it’s for comfort through unfamiliar nights in an unfamiliar place. Tonight she doesn’t eat the lies she likes to feed herself every other night, she seems to have lost her appetite. 

Instead, she holds on tight, pulling Dani closer until she’s impossibly close and then more. Because she didn’t know it before, but tonight could be the last night. She didn’t know it then, but every night she’s spent with Dani could have been the last one. From now on, every night that Dani wraps around her could be the last one. 

She’s cracking. She’s breaking. She knows it and she can feel it. 

But it’s fine.

_It’s fine._

Because Dani has been the love of her life ever since she was fourteen, when Dani saved her father from the brink of starvation and sickness, in the middle of the harshest winter that almost wiped out her entire family and no one would have noticed. Dani gave her a few years with her family, before her father passed away and her mother left and her brothers decided they needed to leave too. Dani gave her a family when she needed it most, even if it was only for a few years, even if she wasn’t truly happy. Dani made her feel less alone and when Jamie’s family left, Dani became the only person who kept her from being lonely.

Jamie loves Dani.

_Jamie loves Dani so. much._

And Jamie knows that to love is to not keep. Her father loved her mother. He loved her wrong and Jamie finally understands. 

To love is to not keep, to not possess or hinder or restrict. 

Jamie loves Dani, Jamie loves Dani and she promises to shut the fuck up about it and leave when she needs to. 

-

_What the fuck._

_Dani,_ Jamie tried to reason, _it’s alright, I’ll just get some water and scrub it off._

 _What the actual. Fuck._

Dani was pacing. She was fuming.

_Hey, it’s fine I don’t know what it says anyway._

Dani halted. _You don’t?_

She turned to look at Jamie but she wasn’t looking at her. Jamie had her eyes on her muddy boots and her hands shoved into the pockets of her overalls. 

_I never went to school, Dani._

And, _oh,_ Dani should have known. 

Dani should have known that Jamie’s family was part of the majority that couldn’t afford to send their kids to school. Dani should have known that Jamie couldn't read and Dani shouldn’t have fucking made her feel bad about it.

_Oh, I’m sorry I didn-_

_You think I’m stupid now,_ Jamie scoffed, _you think I’m fucking stupid._

And Jamie stormed past her vandalized fence and ran through her farm to her house. She almost made it through the front door, almost succeeded in slamming the door shut behind her when a pair of arms wrapped around her waist and tugged her back flush against Dani’s front. 

_Dani,_ Jamie cautioned.

 _You’re the smartest person I know,_ Dani whispered into the nape of her neck, her nose pushed deep into the back of Jamie’s hair. 

_All those times,_ Dani sighed, _I read from scholars and academics and philosophers and poets and you understood them more than I did._

 _Dani,_ Jamie whispered.

 _All those times I was shoved into politics too soon and I didn’t know what to do,_ Dani turned Jamie slowly, hands on her waist and thumbs brushed upon her hips, _and you came up with all the solutions to my problems._

Jamie was facing Dani now, her arms were limp against her sides and Dani’s eyes were more intense than they’ve ever been before.

_All those times my father tested me and presented me with problems that he couldn’t even solve, you solved them all._

Dani’s hand slid up the back of Jamie’s neck and pulled her in close, arm wrapped around her lower back and hand brushed softly on her waist. 

_You’re the most intelligent person I know._

And Jamie melted. She hoped Dani couldn’t feel it but she absolutely melted. 

_I like it better this way,_ Jamie had said, _I’d rather not read what everyone else has to say. I’d rather just hear what you deem repeating instead._

Dani pushed her face further into Jamie’s neck and she believed herself so lucky that Jamie couldn’t see the redness her face had become. 

_It’s better this way anyway,_ Dani thought.

Because Jamie couldn’t read, _a whore’s daughter will always be a whore,_ smeared in pig’s blood on her fence. 

When Jamie filled a bucket with water and a rag and a few onions, _because pig’s blood attracts wolves,_ Jamie explained, _but the smell of onions keeps them away._

Dani couldn’t help but tell her again, _you’re the smartest person I know._


	5. Chapter 5

“Ouf!”

Jamie’s back hits the ground hard as her feet fly out from underneath her. She immediately flips over to her side, narrowly dodging Lady Rebecca’s kick to the chest. 

“Faster!” Rebecca calls out, both hands grip around Jamie’s forearms, tugging her up, already jumping back to a fighting stance before Jamie catches her bearings. 

“Again!” Rebecca yells.

And Jamie proceeds, advancing with a flurry of kicks, punches, blocks, and lunges. Rebecca retaliates relentlessly, shins redirecting and calves hooking behind Jamie’s kicks, once again landing Jamie on her back. 

They’ve been training together everyday from dawn to dusk for a month now and to say they’ve become close would be an extreme overstatement. To even call them friends would be too much for either of them. But Jamie respects Rebecca and Rebecca looks out for Jamie and this is the first sense of true camaraderie that either of them have ever felt. 

Jamie grew up with her brothers but Dennis had learned what the word, _whore,_ meant at a young age and has decided since then that he wanted nothing to do with her or their mother. Michael was always by her side but only because he was mainly dependent on her. She was too young to be his mother but old enough for her mother to deem it reasonable anyway. Their relationship was always uneven, unbalanced, with him naturally leeching off of her, who was both his mother and his father. 

She knows the villagers meant well, the farmers and the townspeople she grew up with, but she also knows some of what they’ve come to say behind her back. Over the years it seems that Jamie has managed to gather quite a stoic reputation for herself. She’s heard the other children tell each other that she’s a witch, and that her brothers are actually boys that she’s stolen from another village, kept hostage under her sorcery because no one else wanted to be her friend. They used to giggle so sweetly. She always thought it was so ironic how they thought they were so smart in their school robes when they were stupid enough to believe such a lie. She wasn’t surprised when she later found out that it was Dennis who started the rumour, a peasant who wanted to make friends with the school boys who wouldn’t look his way. 

It was nothing compared to what the fathers in town used to say, that Jamie and her mother serviced men together when Jamie’s father was working underground. They would laugh at her too, only their laughs came with jeers and smirks, pinches and slaps, swipes and grabs where there shouldn’t be. Jamie learned after a certain age that wearing Dennis’ old clothing to town and keeping her hair bobbed short helped her go by unnoticed by everyone during anytime and she liked it that way. 

It was the mothers who she yearned for sympathy from the most, if she’s being honest. But she would never admit it because it was them who hurt her the most. _She is always so unkept and unruly,_ they would say. _She can never be a mother,_ it would always get to, _she would never make a wife._

And it’s fine.

_It’s fine._

But couldn’t they tell, didn’t they know, that it was a mother that she’s missing? That it was a mother that she needed? That she didn’t know how to be a lady because she was never taught to. And sometimes. Sometimes it was dangerous for her to, especially when she was helpless and defenseless, hauling a cart of unsold fruit on the dark roads home leading out of town. 

Didn’t they know that all she yearned for, all she ever wanted was a bit of sympathy from a woman? A gentle nurturing from the softness that only a feminine touch can produce. Of course they didn’t, because Jamie was cold and distant, Jamie was dirty and impure, Jamie was undesirable and undeserving. 

All things that Dani eventually came to hear. All things that Dani fought tooth and nail with strangers about, not caring for the possible tarnished reputation of a noblewoman, _to hell with it for all I care, Jamie!_ She had looked at her with such conviction, sometimes Jamie can still see her exact face behind closed eyelids, _I’ll be damned if I let anyone treat you that way._

The only one doing that damning would have been Dani. But Dani would have been powerful enough in her rage to do quite a good job of it on her own nonetheless. 

It was no matter, as Dani stained her blonde hair brown and shortened her shaggy curls and the villagers who spent so many years criticizing her couldn’t recognize the fraud that was Jamie the Archer. 

It was Dani who stole some of her father’s expensive hair dyes and coaxed Jamie onto a chair. She stretched strands of Jamie’s curls between her fingers and snipped them off with embroidery shears. _I think I might have cut off too much,_ she meekly said after a while, _I’ve never cut curly hair before, I’ve never cut anyone’s hair really._

And Jamie had laughed, _it’s hair, it’ll grow back._

But then Dani showed her a small vanity mirror from her bag and Jamie must admit, she was impressed.

_It’s like what the butcher’s son has, the feminine one. Only he has less curls._ Dani explained, hands behind her back where Jamie knew they were wringing at each other. 

_I really like it, Dani,_ Jamie looked up at her earnestly, _how did you know what to go for?_

And Dani didn’t answer because she didn’t want to say that she couldn’t pin point when, but sometime after getting to know Jamie, Dani found that she seemed to have formed an instinctual habit to think about Jamie every time she encountered just about anything, _really,_ in her daily life. 

She came to know which colours would look best on Jamie without ever seeing them on the other woman’s skin once. She knows exactly how the weather’s going to reflect on Jamie’s hair, on her eyes, on her skin, on her mood (this was a big one), when she’s only been greeted by her first waking blinks through her window. 

She knows how Jamie will react to things. She knows what Jamie will say, sometimes she can even tell exactly what Jamie’s thinking. It’s not because Jamie’s predictable, she’s far from it to everyone else. But Dani knows Jamie.

_Dani knows Jamie._

_And she couldn’t stop thinking about her all the goddamned time._

She had wet Jamie’s hair under the sun, a bucket and a deep ladle by her side as she rolled up the sleeves of a borrowed shirt that, once belonged to Dennis, but now smelled purely of Jamie. She worked soap into Jamie’s hair, her nails scratched lightly through Jamie’s tangles and her soft finger tips rolled sweet circles down Jamie’s scalp. 

She rinsed Jamie’s hair, scrunched the water out with a towel, and ran a comb through it before parting and dying the first of Jamie’s strands. They sat around and laughed at Jamie’s dye-matted hair while the sun baked the dark colour in. Then Dani carefully rinsed through Jamie’s hair again, making sure to wash out all the dye. The water, which was once cold from being in a well underground, was now warmed by the sun, leaving warm tickles in its trails down the cartridge of Jamie’s ear, down the side of her neck, down the base, the nape of her neck. 

Dani had lathered soap into her hair again, and then she traced after those water trails because, _some of the dye got on your skin, Jamie._

And Jamie swore, swore she didn’t mean to but when Dani’s soft circles rolled themselves out of her scalp, tracing her hairline at the base of her neck, Jamie’s eyes slid backwards. She was lucky that Dani was behind her so the other woman didn’t see her reaction. But then Dani’s fingertips circled down her neck and inched around the sides, tracing the water droplets that fell from her ears. 

And it must’ve been slippery there or something, because one of Dani’s fingers slipped and Jamie knows, knows Dani was trying to be gentle but her middle finger slipped a little harshly into the junction behind Jamie’s jaw, her ear, meeting her neck, and Jamie _moaned._ That reaction, she knew, was less successfully hidden because Dani froze.

Or well, she may have looked like she froze. But Dani’s hands were still on Jamie and Jamie had felt Dani’s fingers _tighten._

_Tighten around Jamie’s neck._

And then Jamie’s back is hitting the ground again as the air gets kicked out of her lungs. Rebecca’s footprint feels like it’s still stamped hard into her chest, pressed down in a way that has her constricting lungs pull in but they still have to fight for her to breathe. 

Jamie coughs. Air rushes down her throat as she hacks, chest half raised from the ground and eyes still blinking around dazed. 

“Here,” Rebecca shoves her open canteen into her clenched fists and Jamie greedily gulps at the water, choking down wet coughs. 

Her gasps eventually calm into a sigh, and she lays back on the ground and allows herself a moment’s rest before jumping back into getting her ass handed to her.

“You’re lucky women don’t often venture onto the battlefields,” Rebecca says cooly, “else you’ll be slain every time Lady Danielle draws near.”

“What?” Jamie jolts up suddenly, “she’s here already?”

“Not yet,” Rebecca hums, “but she will be soon. She usually always appears around this time, and that’s usually when you get the most distracted.”

“And unfocused,” she kicks Jamie’s feet, bending to pull her up by the arm.

Jamie stands, dusting herself off for the first time that day, pretending she doesn’t feel Rebecca’s smirk to her side.

“You might be wrong, and you’re one to talk” Jamie jumps back into a fighting stance, “that woman’ll lead a charge on the battlefield one day and as her husband I must not disappoint beside her.”

“Again!”

-

Dani doesn’t know what she saw.

She doesn’t know what she saw. She doesn’t. 

But she knows she was just walking through the gardens to the courtyard to greet Jamie after her training session with Lady Rebecca when she sees them, from just in between a rack of spears. Jamie was on the ground, her legs splayed apart and Rebecca was on her knees beside her. 

Dani slows her advance, coming to a stutter as she watches Rebecca bend down, her upper body hovering over Jamie’s. From this angle, Dani can make out Rebecca’s hands, wrapped firmly around Jamie’s shoulders as she pulls her from the ground. The two of them stay there, Jamie with her legs splayed out sitting on the ground and Rebecca kneeling next to her, the two of them are slowly facing each other until the back of Rebecca’s head moves to cover Jamie’s face and.

_They better not be fucking kissing, I swear to God._

“JAMIE!” Dani yells, and then she’s running.

“Dani!” Jamie manages, with just as much enthusiasm but also in much more pain.

“I’m so glad you finally came,” she weakly grins at Dani when she stops to a halt beside them, “any longer and Lady Rebecca might’ve beat the absolute shite out of me.”

Dani turns to see a look of absolute horror and _concern_ on Rebecca’s face.

“My Lady,” the knight immediately swivels to her on both knees, “my lady, I am so terribly sorry.”

And then Jamie’s laughing, “why’re you apologizing to her? Shouldn’t you be apologizing to me?”

_“Excuse me?”_ Dani gasps.

She’s watching Jamie as the other woman continues laughing and Dani can’t understand what’s so funny. She can’t understand what’s so fucking funny because she’s standing here while Jamie was just licking into Rebecca’s mouth and how could she have been so fucking stupid. 

How can she be such a fucking idiot. 

Jamie has spent everyday rolling around in the courtyard with Rebecca. The only woman Jamie sees the most besides Dani is Rebecca. The only woman Jamie talks about besides Dani is Rebecca. The only woman Jamie likes spending time with besides Dani is Rebecca. 

If Jamie doesn’t want Dani, she must want Rebecca.

“I accidentally kicked Lord Jamie,” Rebecca starts, “in the groin.”

Rebecca turns guiltily on her knees from Dani to Jamie, “again, I really am sorry, Sir.”

“It was bound to happen, Rebecca,” Jamie says casually for ease, “you won’t be punished. Please, stop kneeling and stand up.”

So they’re on a first name basis now. And Jamie’s letting Rebecca slide free for something that a lord would’ve had a squired whipped thrice for. 

It’s fine.

_It’s fine,_ Dani thinks. 

But the longer and longer this situation drags out, the more and more Dani realizes that she may have told Jamie that she’s _fine_ with her being with other women but she really isn’t. She really, really isn’t because Dani’s only feeling this once but she already doesn’t know how much more of it she can take. 

Jamie stands and dusts off her shirt and trousers. She brushes on a noticeable, dusty handprint on her thigh that, from the angle alone, could’ve only been from Rebecca. 

Dani spins swiftly, suddenly fuming in a way that she doesn’t understand. In a way that she knows will only confuse Jamie because she can’t make sense of it herself. She doesn’t want to.

She sees the look Rebecca gives her, the look Rebecca gives _Jamie,_ but she doesn’t wait. She hears Jamie call after her but she keeps walking, back along the paved stones she’d come from, not knowing if it would’ve been better had she not walked down them at all. 

Dani feels Jamie’s hand wrap softly around her wrist. She feels Jamie tug and finally relents, slowing until Jamie’s hands wrap from her wrist around her waist and her front thuds softly into Dani’s back.

“Ow,” Jamie whimpers quietly behind her ear.

Dani sighs, “are you hurt?”

“No, Lady Danielle Clayton” Jamie smirks into the side of her neck, “I’m just being dramatic.”

Dani huffs as her hands jump up to slap at Jamie’s, no longer able to settle themselves on the other woman’s nicely like they were on their way to do because she’s annoying. 

“I told you not to call me that.”

“What do you want me to call you then?”

Jamie had whispered it so low, _so low,_ into the junction where her neck meets her shoulders, and where Jamie’s nose currently presses into her skin, that Dani melts. She melts in the heat and warmth that is Jamie, down into the pool that pulls where Jamie’s hands are resting so close to. Dani’s fingertips brush along Jamie’s toned forearms and her eyes lower to join them in their destination, where Dani’s been shamelessly caught staring many times but the times she hasn’t been caught have been more. 

Jamie’s hands, resting warmly almost between her hips. Jamie’s thumbs, tracing through the layers of her dress. Jamie’s fingers, laced within themselves but Dani can still feel them flex and tighten every once in a while against her. 

Jamie’s hands, which are dusty from remnants of spending the day touching Rebecca’s body with her own. Jamie’s hands, ones she’s chosen to save for somebody else, to love on somebody else, someone who isn’t Dani. 

Dani suddenly feels sick and it isn’t physically possible because she hasn’t eaten anything in half a day. She’s chosen to wait to eat with Jamie, like she always does. But she doesn’t feel so hungry anymore, an unexplainable feeling of dread sinks into her. She’s been starving and waiting for Jamie for hours but for some reason she can’t seem to want to eat now. 

“Why don’t you just not call me at all,” she huffs out quietly.

And then she’s breaking out of Jamie’s grasp and storming towards the castle, the many layers of her dress gathered up in her arms as she leaves without once looking back.

She doesn’t see the confusion and the worry etched on Jamie’s features. 

Jamie doesn’t understand how Dani is as warm as the sun on her back at high noon and then as freezing as a harsh winter storm in a moment ruptured by a blink. She figures Dani needs some time to herself so Jamie heads to the stables, choosing to forgo dinner that night so Dani can eat in peace.

-

“There you are, Tall Boy. How’re you doing, lad?”

Jamie’s hand cups under Tall Boy’s chin and holds his face close as her other hand gently rubs oil into the fur between his eyes. She rubs her hand warmly up and down his nose, making him blink at her lazily. 

_“You’re such a horse girl,”_ Dani had said to her on a visit the day after dragging Tall Boy out to her farm.

_“You say that like it has bad connotations. We should all be horse girls, we depend on our horses for everything. You’re the one who’s so obsessed with him that you can’t even spend a full day apart from him.”_

_“What’re you talking about, I was already coming here everyday before he was ever here!”_

_“Well then maybe it’s not him you’re so obsessed with then, is it, Dani?”_

Jamie had giggled to herself, so giddy in the cleverness of her jab and still so excited over Tall Boy that she didn’t catch Dani’s red, gaping, speechlessness. 

“Do you like the smell of this oil?” She hums quietly at him.

Over the years, Jamie’s come to realize that Dani has a very strong, unbreakable habit of stealing things, considering the fact that she is a rich noblelady and the sole heir to an international trading empire. And like many things, this tub of coconut oil that Lord Clayton brought over from Asia was smuggled to Jamie by Dani. 

Sometimes she wonders if Dani does it to piss him off, but Dani’s reassured her multiple times that Lord Clayton imports in excess so he doesn’t notice when a few things go missing here and there. Sometimes she wonders if Dani steals just because she could, she has no reason to. She could simply ask and her father would always gift it to her. But Dani always seems so much more satisfied when she hands Jamie something she’s managed to sneak out undetected. 

Jamie continues softly cooing and cawing as she makes her way down Tall Boy’s body. She has a rag in one hand, a handful of oil in the other, and the tub of oil shuffling between her two feet. She’s focused, picking out fleas and wiping away excess dirt as she works the oil into his coat. She can tell he doesn’t know why she’s been so suddenly obsessed with him lately, pampering him with oils and scented-soaps when before he used to just be scrubbed down with left over soapy water from the laundry and get rinsed with a few buckets of water. 

“If I’m taken care of then you’re taken care of too, my friend,” she mumbles to him.

Her brothers used to call her crazy when she used to talk to the animals they occasionally kept on the farm. It’s probably how they came up with her crazy witch persona that they seemed to spend more time creating than getting to actually know her. 

Dani’s heard her talk to Tall Boy. Dani’s heard her talk to her worms in her garden, hell even the grubs in there too. She’s tried not to for so long initially but it accidentally slipped out one day and when Dani didn’t react, didn’t comment, well Jamie figured, _she’s already heard it once she might as well hear it again._

So entranced in her thoughts and focused on her task that she’s completely unhearing to the sweet little mewls squeaking from her right. She’s completely unaware until she accidentally stepped on the tip of the fucker’s tail and he jumped high and bit her on her inner calf. 

“OW!” Jamie yowls.

She quickly wipes her hands of the oil and reaches down to pull up the little shite that’s still clamped around her leg.

“Fuck,” Jamie growls softly, “you trying to swallow a bite of me, you little fucker?”

She gives the brown and gray ball a light tug and hisses in pain when he still doesn’t let up. She wraps a hand around the back of the cat’s head, her forefinger coming to rest behind his jaw on one side and her thumb inserted on the other. She applied light pressure, easing him off slowly as she tsks at him.

“You’re starving, no wonder you were trying to eat me,” Jamie can’t help but coo softly, “let’s give you a bit of a bath before I take you in.”

And that, is much needed because the cat turned out to be orange and white, not dusty brown and gray, but is also a big mistake because Jamie got relentlessly shredded by a, supposedly lifeless, starved, and tired, murder machine all because of a few laddles of water. 

-

“Hey,” Jamie pushes their door open tentatively, the wretched cat wrapped tightly in a towel behind her back, swaddled as if he’s an infant rather than a few handfuls of metal darts wrapped in some fur. 

“Hey,” Dani huffs from her seat against their bed’s headrest. 

She lazily looks up at Jamie, her gaze previously occupied by a leather-bound book snuck out of Lord Clayton’s personal library.

“Jamie!” She immediately throws her legs off the bed, slipping on fur slippers before she stumbles her way over to Jamie.

Jamie gently backs the door closed behind her, arms reaching backwards and hands balancing the devil and the door locks, maneuvering them into place. 

“Jamie, what in the hell happened to you?” Dani gasps.

And Jamie can’t see it, so she kind of forgot to cover it because after a while the stings were subdued to a heated, dull throbbing and Jamie just realized that she should have done something about the countless raised cat scratches on her neck and chest before coming in.

“I, uh,” Jamie starts hesitantly, “I found someone in the stables.”

She slowly brings her arms around, securely craddling the little fucker that’s, _of course,_ trying to chew his way through the towel snugged against him. 

And Dani absolutely melts. “Awwwww,” she coos softly, so hypnotized by the cat that she seems to have forgotten about her outburst from earlier, her previous need to put distance between herself and Jamie. She reaches for the cat and halts, just a breath away from his pink nose as he sniffs her curiously before deciding to allow her to scratch his stupid little head. 

Jamie watches as Dani draws close, so close to her as she lights up so radiantly because of that cat. Dani’s curious fingers eventually reach down to undo the towel wrapped around the cat and instead of taking the fucker from her, Dani turns herself and leans into Jamie, her hand tapping impatiently on Jamie’s arm until Jamie opens up and allows Dani to back into her. 

Dani slowly unravels the towel between Jamie’s arms, and gasps so softly that only Jamie can feel the small puff of air leave her chest against her own chest. 

“Oh, he’s so cuuuuuuuteee,” she whines at Jamie helplessly.

She wraps her hands under his arms and pulls him into her and surprise, unlike with Jamie she doesn’t get bitten or clawed. Dani hangs the towel on Jamie’s forearm around her and Jamie laughs into her shoulder as she lowers her arms and tightens her hold on Dani’s waist. 

“I wanted to bring him in to show you, but he was so dirty I had to bathe him first.”

Dani’s forefinger grazes up and down the bridge of his nose and his eyes close contently as his limbs all stick out in a stretch. He quickly pulls back into a curl when Jamie’s fingers dared to tickle his hollow belly and he opens his eyes to snap warningly at her.

“I didn’t realized I should’ve cut his nails first,” she shakes her head in a chuckle, her nose tracing the dip of Dani’s shoulders, “the fucker put me through a vegetable peeler.” 

She holds one of her hands up for Dani to see.

“I didn’t realize I wasn’t supposed to cut too high, turns out I didn’t know there are so many things I can do at once to anger a cat, I ended up doing just about all of them.”

There, on the inside of Jamie’s hand, on the soft spot where the knuckle of her forefinger meets her thumb, is a perfectly cute little bite mark that must’ve hurt like a bitch but it looks so small Dani can’t help but chuckle at the ferociousness of such a tiny creature. 

Suddenly, Dani’s body let’s out the slightest of rumbles. It was a small one and to be honest, Dani’s been ignoring her stomach for hours in stubbornness and anger that she’s now so hungry she’s past feeling it. But Jamie’s hands are splayed flat against her lower belly, almost directly on her skin if not for the thin night dress she has on, the only thing separating her bare skin from Jamie’s warm hands. 

“Is that- Haven’t you eaten, Dani?”

Jamie spins her around in her arms, her hands never leaving Dani’s shoulders but the speed of her turn and Dani’s full day of starvation made her slightly dizzy.

“Dani,” Jamie lifts her eyes to meet Dani’s slightly dazed ones, “are you hungry?”

Dani nods lightly, “mmm.”

“How come you haven’t eaten?”

“I was too angry,” Dani sighs more at the cat in her arms than at Jamie.

So without another word, Jamie’s hand wraps loosely around her wrist and pulls on her lightly until she follows Jamie down to the kitchen with the damned cat still in her arm.

-

“Come here, boy,” Dani puts a small piece of cheese on the kitchen table in front of her.

The cat sniffs at it once, twice before diving face first at it.

“Good boy,” Dani chuckles.

“How did that deserve any praise?” Jamie questions, throwing a grape into her mouth.

“He’s just acting out on a natural instinct, I’d eat anything like that and you’d never give me any praise.”

“Well,” Jamie hums out an after thought before Dani can speak, “there’s one thing I absolutely _will not_ eat.” 

Dani looks up at her suddenly and sees Jamie’s face wrinkled in disgust, her mouth working in a way that makes it look sour.

“Oh, well I thought-” Dani starts, wide-eyed dipping in dangerous territory just as Jamie says, “eggplants. I can’t stand the slimey shits.”

And Dani halts mid-thought, red-faced and embarrassed, hoping upon the belief of hope that Jamie hasn’t heard her. 

“I should take a look at those scratches,” Dani immediately jumps to a cupboard, “wouldn’t want to scar that pretty chest, take your shirt off.”

“My pretty _what?_ Jamie asks incredeously. 

And Dani pauses her rummaging in the cupboard, keeping her face hidden behind the door as she wills her beating heart to shut the fuck up.

When Dani’s found her father’s surface wound balm, she turns to face Jamie splayed out on the bench, back leaning against the kitchen table, her shirt discarded in a small pile beside her. Jamie’s facing Dani, but she’s looking up and back as she stretches out the sore muscles on her back, the slight twitching of her body telling Dani of her winces, reminders of the extra harsh training session she had earlier. 

Jamie is fully splayed out and presented to Dani, and Dani can see the raised scratches that carve into her neck and down into the skin of her chest, between the valley of her breasts and Dani can tell the cat’s managed to get some of the skin under the bandages wrapped tightly around Jamie’s breasts. 

“You need to take that off t-too,” Dani mumbles, barely getting out the full sentence. 

“T-this?” Jamie jumps, hands protectively coming up to wrap around her chest. 

“Yeah,” Dani flushes, but she isn’t so embarrassed anymore because she’s finally looking at Jamie’s face and the other woman’s face blushes so red it bleeds down her neck, into the skin of her chest, between the valley of her breasts, and Dani can tell the skin under the bandages there matches the same too. 

“Alright then.”

Dani knows she’s staring but in this moment, she’s too shameless to stop. 

She watches as Jamies hands shakely reach behind her back, untucking and undoing the knot holding together her tight wrappings. She slowly unfolds the bandages, rolling and pulling them off her body, unraveling what Dani so desperately wishes to see underneath. 

When the last of her is there, laying bare against the kitchen table, with only the one candle they took to illuminate their path as sight, Dani swallows dryly as Jamie looks away bashfully. 

Dani approaches slowly, her eyes trying their hardest to respectfully stay looking out their corners to give Jamie the decency of respect but then, _somehow,_ they always slide back down to look at the sight before her. Jamie’s bare chest, blushing but open and swelling subtly with every breath. 

Dani could see that she’s hardened in the middle of her softness and the goosebumps on the swell under her breasts are all signs that it’s incredibly cold in the castle’s vast kitchen during the dipping temperatures of this night. But Dani can’t seem to feel it because her body is on fire. She’s being set alight from so deep inside and when Dani finally reaches Jamie, she fights to restrain her thumbs from brushing where she wants them to. Or her mouth, from raining warm kisses where she wants it to. 

It takes a lot of effort for Dani to finally look into Jamie’s eyes, hand her the air-tight jar of balm, and offer her a smile, “you get this opened for me, I’m going to need some water.”

She turns to fill a bowl with some boiled water from a pot, cooled overnight. She grabs a clean rag and mentally prepares herself to focus before she turns back to face Jamie. But then it was all for nothing because one look at Jamie has her back to the same place.

Dani hurries back over to Jamie’s side, subtly giving her dirty head a shake to get her thoughts in order as she sets the materials down.

She soaks the rag and wrings it over Jamie’s collar bones, clearly not thinking about the consequences as the water droplets drip down Jamie’s soft chest and fall off the hardened tips at the end. 

Dani doesn’t feel the hardened tip of Jamie’s chest in the middle of her palm. Dani didn’t just instinctively reach up with the rag to wipe away the water she just spilt on Jamie. Dani didn’t just squeeze deliciously as she swiped at the droplets on Jamie’s skin.

She didn’t. 

But her wide eyes are staring directly into Jamie’s shocked ones and she can feel her mouth open a few times but she can’t speak.

But then just as one horrifying scenario is saved by another, Dani hears the telltale sounds of her father’s night slippers. Well, she can hear the unique cadence of his walk, a slow and lazy dragging, slow in one leg and even slower in the other one. 

She immediately drops the rag away from Jamie.

“Do you trust me?”

Jamie nods, “but I’m bare, I can’t let anyone see-”

Dani blows out the candle and engulfs them in darkness, using a hand on Jamie’s thigh to guide her back between Jamie’s legs. 

“Hop up,” Dani orders softly.

Jamie swallows loudly and slowly reaches her arms onto the table behind her, pulling herself up and Dani doesn’t know why but it feels like instinct for her to lean in with her. It feels like instinct for her to seek out the warmth of Jamie’s centre gliding up her body. It feels like instinct for her to try to seek it out again.

“Trust me, alright,” Dani whispers as the footprints get louder, “I always take care of you.”

Jamie nods against her forehead and then Dani’s mouth is dipped deep into the base of Jamie’s neck, their chests pressed together saved for a damned night dress, Dani’s knees coming up to rest on the bench, and Jamie’s centre sliding smoothly from her stomach to her pelvis.

Dani’s hands wrap around Jamie’s lower back, her nails scratching curiously at the skin above her waistband. She feels herself moan behind Jamie’s ear, so lost in the feeling of Jamie immediately jerking into her from surprise. 

She’s so enwrapped in Jamie, so entranced by her, that she barely registers her father’s footsteps getting louder and louder.

Suddenly, Dani remembers something. 

She flicks the tip of her tongue and allows it to brush gently into the hollow behind Jamie’s jaw, where the back of her ear meets the tip of her neck. She grazes it quickly with her teeth and that’s the only warning that Jamie gets before she’s sucking it into a warm, open-mouthed kiss. 

Jamie reacts instantly how she hoped, and she feels almost wicked to be the one who elicited the sinful moan that leaves Jamie’s lips. She feels almost cruel to be the one who made Jamie’s chest pull in sharply against hers. But in this moment everything taught wrong and right is all clouded together because the feeling of, not only knowing that she did this and that she _caused_ this, but that she also has the pleasure of physically feeling it’s delicious release from the back of Jamie’s throat is making her dizzy. 

She feels light enter the room behind her closed eyelids and she opens up just in time to see Lord Clayton, opened in a wide-mouthed shriek at the sight of a shirtless Jamie with her trouser-clad legs wrapped tightly around Dani’s dress. 

And then they’re both, once again, encased in darkness as Lord Clayton’s candle is dropped to the floor. There’s a moment of silence filled only by his heaving gasps. Then Dani listens as he stumbles his way back to his room in the darkness. 

-

“You’re not sleeping yet?” Jamie mumbles sleepily into Dani’s hip.

She’s almost asleep, only noticing from her side of the bed that Dani’s still awake when she hears sharp snipping beside her. She turned into her, too tired from the day to realize she’s snuggled deep into the side of Dani’s leg. 

“Does Rebecca know you’re a woman?” Dani hums.

“No,” Jamie’s brows scrunch up groggily, “why would I ever tell her.”

She’s pouting and Dani wants to kiss the sleep back into her worried features.

“Do you,” Dani starts hesitantly, “do you think Rebecca’s pretty?”

Jamie doesn’t know this but Dani has a habit of jerking awake in the middle of the night. It’s always been something she’s had to navigate, ever since her earliest memories, her sleep has always been interrupted at some point during the night. 

Ever since they began to share a bed, Dani’s mid-night startles have had her waking up to the feeling of Jamie either pressed into her neck or squished directly underneath her. This one time, Jamie was on her stomach and Dani was also on her stomach, but Dani was also on Jamie. She felt her thigh pressed between the soft swell of Jamie’s ass, her throat letting out an embarrassingly loud groan into Jamie’s ear when she realized. 

Dani learned really quickly that Jamie is an incredibly heavy sleeper. She may be able to rise at hours when Dani believes that no one else should but once she’s down, she’s out like a light. She’s never known of the every night moments of herself that Dani’s witnessed in the darkness of the night, just the two of them held close for warmth and comfort and the pure feeling of excitement held inside Dani’s pulsing chest. 

Jamie chuckles and throws her arm around Dani’s leg, under the blanket where her dress has raised up to her thigh. She tucks her arm under one side of Dani’s thigh and buries her face deeper into the other side.

“I’m only looking at you, woman,” Dani barely manages to make out.

“Alright,” Dani smiles quietly to herself, “that’s good to hear.”

“Don’t eat without me again, alright?” Jamie peeks out an eye at her, “I wanted to give you some peace and you went on and starved on me. How am I supposed to trust that you’re taking care of yourself unless I’m watching you myself?”

“Alright, Jamie,” Dani smiles to Jamie’s one eye and she huffs satisfactorily before burying back to sleep.

-

Dani waits for a few moments after Jamie’s left for the courtyard before she starts heading there herself.

“Good morning, Lady Rebecca,” she announces her entrance casually, as if the events of yesterday have not transpired at all.

“Lady Danielle,” Rebecca halts mid-swing and bows swiftly in her direction.

“Dani?” 

Dani can already hear Jamie’s grin in her voice before she’s fully turned around. 

“You’ve forgotten this, my love.”

And in Dani’s hand is a leather jock strap, sown into a sturdy harness with buckles and straps on the side of the hips and thighs. The cup is gigantically sized, built with multiple layers of stiff leather that Dani’s bent over the heat of a candle last night and sown together. 

“You must remember to protect yourself, Jamie,” Dani scolds lightly, “had you not been wearing this yesterday, Lady Rebecca may have ended our bloodline.”

“I-” Rebecca immediately tries to jump in.

“Enough Dani, let’s not give Lady Rebecca a hard time. It was an honest mistake and she was panicked enough.”

She gives Dani a slow smile, “she didn’t know my wife is always looking out for me.”


	6. Chapter 6

“Obesity.”

“No.”

“Yes, Obesity.”

“Jamie, I am not naming him Obesity.”

The mentioned Obesity is currently asleep, wedged on top of their blanket in between the outlines of Dani’s legs. He’s stretched out, paws tucked close to his chest and legs twitching occasionally in his sleep. 

He’s a bit scrawny still, even after the two weeks he’s been with them, which is surprising to Dani, considering the amount of food that she keeps trying to feed him. It’s not surprising to Jamie, who keeps chucking the excess food when Dani’s not looking, else he’ll become a ball with legs if this goes unchecked. 

She was just about to head out on one of her daily morning strolls around the gardens before training with Rebecca. But Dani with her slumbering face covered in a mess of sunlit hair cuddled close had her faltering. So Jamie stayed, later than she usually would, and allowed herself her own unguarded moment of peace while she witnessed Dani’s. But she lost track of time, and eventually Dani’s stillness started stirring, so Jamie stayed to witness her waking up too. 

“If you keep feeding him the way you do he’ll become Obesity regardless.” 

Dani huffs, eyes never straying from the cat as her arm shoots out and shoves a chuckle out of Jamie. 

“Alright, time for me to get out of your hair.” Jamie stretches, arms raising high above her head before jumping out the bed. 

She makes her way over to their wardrobe and suddenly Dani’s eyes can’t stay on the cat no matter how hard she tries. She watches as Jamie pulls her armour off a wooden mannequin, her leather one today, and slips it over her curls. She doesn’t need any help with this one, Dani knows she gets by just fine on her own every morning, but that doesn’t stop her from offering, “let me help you.”

Dani watches Jamie as Jamie watches her, and holding each other’s eyes, it’s different from simply witnessing one another. They haven’t talked about that night, Dani backed off with a shy smile and Jamie nodded back with an averted gaze as she wordlessly pulled her shirt back on. They’d left it at that, an awkward quietness that both are too willing to not tamper with. But Jamie’s been pulling away, ever so slightly, in such small amounts that it almost makes Dani question if she’s delusional for noticing. She’s been gone, earlier every morning, leaving behind a coldness for Dani’s wandering fingers to wake up to. She comes back much later, more battered and bruised, more drained and tired, more eyes drooping closed at supper and less looking at Dani when she talks. Less talking to Dani at all. 

So it’s a pleasant surprise when Dani’s finally stood in front of her, and Jamie allows her fingers to smooth over the buckles of her leather chest plate. It’s less of a surprise when Dani looks at her, and Jamie avoids her gaze. 

“I think I’ve got the last of it.” Dani pats with a swallow. 

“Thanks,” Jamie whispers. 

She immediately takes a step back and Dani pretends not to notice. 

-

“Harder!” Jamie pants.

There’s sweat dripping into her eyes and a raging bruise forming on the side of her leg from too slow of a block for Rebecca’s wooden training sword. Jamie straightens herself, both hands coming up to grip tight on her wooden sword handle as she insists once again, “harder!”

She almost growls when Rebecca lowers her sword instead, “it’s best we take a rest, Lord Jamie.”

And she knows she’s overreacting, beating out her anger where she can’t speak it, misdirecting her frustrations at Rebecca when she doesn’t deserve it. But Jamie can’t help it. She’s been so restless and anxious but she can’t allow herself to show it. She can’t be struggling in public, that’s always been the deal, but she can’t do it in front of Dani now either, she won’t allow herself. 

Because there’s been that one night in the castle kitchen, and there have been others. It seems as though every time the two of them are together, if Lord Clayton happens to be rounding a corner, or stepping into a room, or walking through a hallway, Dani pushes Jamie up against a wall, on a table, on the floor. And Jamie never complains, never wants to. Those brief moments against Dani are bliss, but they always hurt an empty hollowness after, when she inevitably pulls away after he’s gone. 

But how could Jamie possibly bring it up, how could she selfishly make Dani uncomfortable after the predicament they’ve both legally tied themselves to. So she acts fine in front of Dani, always acts fine, and when it’s too hard, she avoids her all together. It’s better that way.

She’s been throwing herself into whatever she can. She wakes before the sun to go on walks with Tall Boy. She strolls the gardens before training and watches the groundskeeper flit about his work. It’s different from what Jamie’s used to, flowers and bushes for aesthetics, instead of fruits and vegetables to sell. But it’s calming nonetheless, whether she digs her hands in the dirt herself or witnesses someone else’s labour of love. The poor man probably thinks the young Lord Clayton’s keen on monitoring his work, looking for any missteps to rat him out. 

But Jamie’s not interested in spending her time forcing her head upright while listening to Lord Clayton degrade her, she’d rather beat her feelings out with Rebecca instead. Or have Rebecca beat the feelings out of her, whichever is fine by Jamie. And she’s absolutely fine to continue that today, except Rebecca doesn’t seem to be.

“You’ve been… hard on yourself lately, Lord Jamie.” She’s tentative, wording delicately in a way she’s never needed to before. 

“I’ve got some hard goals to accomplish, Lady Rebecca.” Jamie tries for sternness, but the words dry heaving out of her don’t sell the end of a conversation. 

“It would do you no good to burn out too soon, my Lord.” Rebecca leaves at that.

_It would do me no good to stick around for too long,_ Jamie wants to bite back.

But it would be unfair, it’s not Rebecca she’s angry with. 

It’s herself.

-

“There’s been recent development in Bly Village,” Lord Clayton speaks to his window while expecting Dani to listen, “the peasants are starting to give the lords there some trouble.”

In spite of her father’s clear insistence to maintain as much distance between the two of them as possible, and she can’t blame him for _why,_ Dani pushes further. “What do you mean, father?”

He’s still refusing to face her, but his sigh reveals a lot more stress than she knows he intended it to. “The king has fallen ill. There’s been talk of a rebellion starting up in the poorer villages, Bly being one of them. Tell your husband he’s accompanying me tomorrow, I must see the severity of the situation myself.”

“Oh,” Dani’s eyes widen, “you’re bringing Jamie with you?”

“As a man he’ll have to overlook this all one day. I’d tell him myself but, unfortunately, I hate him.”

And, “oh,” because Jamie would rather shove her own foot up her ass than spend any moment of her life with Lord Clayton and Dani knows the feeling is mutual from her father’s end. But then why, why request for someone who he hates to breathe the same air as instead of Dani, who’s accompanied him on his every visit to Bly Village since she could walk. 

Because Lord Jamie Clayton is a man, isn’t he? And, regardless of her clear interest in politics, or her academic prowess, Lady Danielle Clayton would never be seen with half as much value.

-

“Well that’s it then? No chance for a forewarning to Rebecca or anything? I just have to drop all my training and follow him wherever he so wishes?” Jamie’s chewing slowly from directly across the table, her eyes directed only at her food. 

And Dani knows it’s unfair, knows it isn’t Jamie she’s angry with, but she can’t help it when she says, “if you want to see her so badly, bring her.”

Jamie offers no recognition of her harsh tone, no acknowledgement of it, aside from a slight falter as she brings up her next bite. Then there’s just silence. Jamie keeps eating even though it’s obvious she hasn’t had an appetite to begin with. Ridiculous, considering how long she’s chosen to train lately. Dani might not be angry with her, but that doesn’t stop her from feeling completely off about the way Jamie’s been acting.

Dani knows it’s not Rebecca’s doing, she asked for herself and regretted it immediately, having to hide her disappointment at the knowledge that Jamie is actually the one who keeps insisting on the extended hours. She wants to ask her for a reason, she does. But she also doesn’t know what she’ll do if Jamie answers honestly, and she receives a response she fears. Doesn’t know what she’ll do if her anxieties are confirmed, if Jamie reveals that she would rather spend countless hours being churned to a pulp than talk to Dani. 

It’s never been like this before, and she knows she’s responsible for this shift, but no matter how hard she tries she can’t force herself to bring it up. Because if she does, if she starts saying it, she might not stop. And then Jamie would know everything, and Jamie can’t know everything. Dani knows that if she says something, Jamie would spend the rest of her life being miserable, only allowing herself the company of pity and Dani. Pity for Dani. 

Her mind is racing so many miles every minute and it takes several repetitions for her to hear her, “Dani.”

“Y-Yeah?”

“I asked if you would like to come too.”

-

“Danielle?” Lord greets at the castle entrance, “come to see us off?”

“No father, I’ve come to join you.”

And he’s incredulous, immediately glaring at Jamie for an explanation, directing his silent question at her _husband_ instead of Dani herself. Because of course, _of course_ Dani would need her husband’s _permission_ to be allowed to accompany her own father to their own summer home.

_His. Owned summer home._

“I’ve become a smarter man after my marriage,” Jamie starts after a tense moment of silence. “It’s no coincidence that I’ve become more well-rounded after having a wife to come home and listen to. Intelligent women shouldn’t be kept locked up, it’s a waste of their potential.”

It’s tense, the anger radiating off Lord Clayton’s body, but Jamie clenches her jaw and straightens her back, her resolve unwavering. Dani’s gaze tightens, her chin set, and brows cool. Together the two of them look like the definition of stubborn, to Lord Clayton. To Dani, who dares to chance a glance at Jamie, they are dedication, commitment to invincibility, to each other. And even though Jamie’s been distant, Dani never doubted her loyalty.

The ride to Bly Village is quiet. The carriage wheels rattle steadily on the stone roads leading out the town of Truesiles and it’s the only sound between the young couple and their fuming father. Dani watches Jamie as the other woman looks out in silent wonder, amazement uncontainable even with the uncomfortableness of the ride.

-

_Asia,_ Dani traced, _where there are all kinds of spices, all shades of people._

_Where are we?_ Jamie wondered, eyes lingering on Dani’s fingers, trailing along the wiggly lines of a stolen parchment. 

_We’re right beside, in Europe._

Dani’s seen countless maps throughout her life. Maps of their country, their continent, the world. But Jamie’s never seen any maps, she’s never even seen outside their town, much less their country, much less the world. 

_It’s connected,_ her voice revealed excitement, _we could just… walk on over._

Dani chuckles, _it’ll be better if we take a few horses. It’ll take us months if we walked, maybe even a year. And look,_ her fingers pointed south, _we can go to Africa too. The land of bright colours and beautiful patterns._

_Africa,_ Jamie repeated in awe, _what about there? Across the pond?_

_The new world? My father’s never been. I don’t know anything about it._

_We can find out together, one day,_ Jamie mumbled to the map, eyes never straying from its outlines, _we can go anywhere we can walk. And when we can’t walk anymore, I’ll build us a ship, throw you on as the figurehead, that’ll bring us some luck, smooth sailing._

_Hey,_ Dani swatted, _why am I the figurehead? You be the figurehead. If anything I should be sailing, between the two of us the merchant’s daughter should know more about the way around a ship._

_Well at least one of us wants to be in charge._

_Why? What would you be doing?_

_With you as the captain? Praying._

And Dani could not figure out how she let Jamie get away with that one. Maybe it was because she has endless patience and self control. Maybe it was her unwavering kindness towards others. Or maybe it was because Jamie was synonymous with her hopes of the world. There were no visions of Dani’s ambitions without Jamie, not for a while. Not since the fruit seller in town decided to be her friend and Dani accidentally developed a bit of a slightly big crush.

-

“It’s ridiculous,” Lord Clifton of the inner kingdom whispers, “they have no respect for authority.” 

And he’s not necessarily wrong. The people of Bly Village haven’t changed since Dani’s seen them last. They don’t stop and stare as the lavish Claytons roll in, nor do they pay any attention to the even more excessive Clifton. They’re a casual people, not a formal one. No one runs up to bow at their feet, kiss at their hands and beg to offer them hospitality in hopes of a few moments of fame in the village gossip. No one falls down on their knees to shine their boots for a tip. 

No one’s trying to kiss their asses, and it’s such a breath of fresh air Dani wants to cry from how much she misses it. In Bly, they’re just regular people, regardless of their status, their wealth, their name. Lord Clayton hates being here.

Jamie is quite possibly obsessed.

“Dani,” the two of them trail behind the two older Lords, Jamie finally initiating a conversation for the first time in three weeks, “tell me about this place?”

And Dani lets out a breath she didn’t know she’s been holding. “You like it here?”

Jamie nods, eyes still scanning the village square they’re strolling past. It’s different from Truesiles, not drastically, but noticeably enough. There’s less funding, for one. Where her town has a central fountain, Bly has a small constructed basin. In place of a library, there are a few old structures, buildings that have fallen away at too many parts to easily identify, now too unsafe to inhabit. There are no fruit stalls, stalls of silk and jewelry and spices. Only a few necessities here and there, a man sells logs for fire, another sells coal for fuel. 

Dani notices immediately, there isn’t a school. It’s always been that way, she remembers her father had to hire her a private tutor for the summers that she spent here. She never got the chance to meet the other children outside Bly Manor, didn’t have the opportunity to make any friends, or talk to any child her age. It’s always been that way, in Truesiles, in Bly, at every business destination her father has allowed her to tag along to, Dani was never allowed to make any friends. 

But she did have Hannah. 

Hannah was the teenager that was hired to look after Dani everyday, when her father dumped her at Bly and went on trips that she couldn’t tag along to. She kept on top of Dani’s academics, made sure she understood everything from the tutor that chose to speed through leather-bound textbooks rather than actually educate her. Hannah gave her comfort, companionship, sisterhood, guidance, and an escape from her loneliness. Hannah was her guardian when she was younger, the teenager had barely left childhood when she became responsible for Dani’s. 

Lord Clayton decided to keep on her as a housekeeper, even after their family stopped frequenting Bly Village. They’ve sent letters back and forth, Dani and Hannah, not Lord Clayton and Hannah, they were not pen pals. 

It’s been years since she’s last seen her, enough for there to be noticeable differences on her face, the way she carries herself, the cadence of her voice. But not enough to erase her same grin for Dani, the same arms that throw themselves around her shoulders the second she’s close enough, her same laugh as she pulls Dani off her toes, earning an unrestrained squeal in her ear. 

“Hannah!” Dani beams. 

“Hannah,” Lord Clayton greets formally.

“Lord and Lady Clayton, it’s so good to finally have you back.” Hannah tries her best to compose herself, to be polite and formal and orderly, but she really can’t stop the grin from staying on her face.

“You’ll have to specify from now on, which Lord Clayton you’re speaking to,” he says with disdain.

Hannah’s smile falters in confusion, “I’m afraid I don’t understand, my Lord.”

“I, um…” Dani clears her throat, “Hannah, meet my husband, Lord Jamie Clayton.”

“Ms. Hannah, it’s a pleasure to meet you. You’ve done an amazing job with the upkeep of the house. May I ask who tends to the gardens?”

And it’s no surprise to Dani that Jamie’s first curiosities are directed towards the land. It’s also no surprise that she voiced her inquiries immediately, considering the wasteland that greets their sights. It’s comforting to know that no matter how distant they may be with each other, how unfamiliar they are with their surroundings, or how deep into young Lord Clayton’s head she is, Jamie is always the same Jamie she knows. 

-

“Your study, My Lord, just as you’ve left it.”

Hannah pushes open the big oak doors and she’s right, the office is just as Dani remembers. She used to sneak in here by herself, when she thought Hannah was already asleep. She used to hop her small body onto his luxurious chair, slip on his reading spectacles, and rifle through all his drawers and bookshelves like the little spy she was. 

It was in this office where she learnt the secrets of politics, the dangerous game of snobbish little men who liked to sit within the safety of their history books and quietly push the pawns of their country. Dani learnt that there is more than just a King. There is a secret, quiet, sticky web that a King gets wrapped up in and that web is spun by little Lords all over the country who remain anonymous, hidden, pulling the King in every which way. In whichever direction they have the power to yank.

It was in this office, where she’s been forbidden to enter, that Dani learned what even the most expensive tutor wasn’t allowed to teach her. Hannah had found her one night, two completely burnt out candles into a book, sitting on the big wooden desk with her legs dangling as she read. Dani thought she was done for. 

But Hannah never said a word, the older teen simply left the room and returned every night with a warm cup of tea for both of them. Dani is grateful for Hannah in a way that she can never express. Dani loves Hannah as her older sister, a parent more than either of hers ever were.

“Perhaps the women would like to become reacquainted,” Lord Clayton steps in first as he dismisses, “the Lords have political matters to discuss.”

“Yes,” Lord Clifton walks in after, side eyeing Dani as he passes, “such serious matters have no place in a Lady’s riddled head.”

Dani almost decks him. 

But Jamie’s hand wraps around her clenched fist, fingers easing up her grip as the two of them intertwine. She wordlessly brings Dani’s knuckles to her lips, placing a pointed kiss as she looks directly at the two Lords before her. Then they both walk in, hand in hand as they cross the threshold of the exclusive study.

Lord Clayton’s anger holds him dangerously solid, frozen in rage at the explicitly open and public disobedience. But they’ve already seated, Dani and Jamie side by side as they stare defiantly at Lord Clifton’s shocked, dropped mouth and Lord Clayton’s silent anger. 

Without another word, Hannah closes the doors and the four of them are left alone in the study with nothing but each other’s dangerous, unwavering stubbornness, and whatever it was that Lord Clayton deemed necessary enough to drag Jamie on this trip all the way to Bly.

-

“Lord Clayton, the King requires you to secure Bly Village. We must stifle the peasants at the outskirts, stop them at their throats and eliminate the threat of a rebellion against the inner kingdom.”

“I cannot simply abandon the coastlines of Truesiles. My responsibility to the King has always been to receive and inspect trade imports, to oversee our borders with the ocean and maintain relations with our international alliances. If I leave my post, that would be a grave breach of our country’s coastal security.”

Dani doesn’t mention the countless trading expeditions her father tends to embark on, for months and sometimes years at a time. She doesn’t mention what he helps sneak into their country, who he bars out. She also doesn’t mention what he skims off the top, before it travels to the inner kingdom.

No, she doesn’t mention any of that at all, instead she squeezes Jamie’s hand, wrapped with hers this entire time, and takes a subtle breath.

“Lord Jamie can represent house Clayton in Bly Village. He is Truesiles’ most skilled archer, with him stationed here, the peasants will be intimidated into silence.”

She feels Jamie tense up, and she squeezes lightly again, a silent _trust me_ before she continues.

“Lord Jamie’s training is close to completion, once he’s anointed with knighthood, the peasants will only bow their heads and fall in line.”

Dani refuses to look at her father, now that she’s revealed her true colours. Both of them know that she’s been vying for Bly, wanting to relocate herself and Jamie for weeks. They both know that Jamie’s training is nowhere near completion, but her promise of knighthood automatically makes her more of a valid candidate for this position than Lord Clayton could argue.

She only holds Lord Clifton’s wide eyes, shocked that a woman dares to speak in this room, much less offer the intelligent solution they’ve been arguing around for the past few hours.

“That…” he starts, “that would be sufficient.” He faces Lord Clayton, either not seeing his blatant anger or choosing to ignore it in favour of a ride home when it’s still light out, he finalizes. “I will report to the King that Lord Jamie Clayton will secure Bly Village, effective immediately. He is responsible for halting any and all indications of a rebellion. He is to ensure that every peasant in this village is loyal to the King and he will stomp out any peasant who refuses to fall in line.”

-

“I must admit, Danielle,” Lord Clayton interrupts the silence of their carriage ride, “I’ve looked away for too long, and you’ve gotten too smart.”

Dani’s jaw tightens but she forces herself to relax, tilting her head in fake innocence when she asks, “what do you mean, father?”

“You’ve become too cunning. I don’t know what game you think you’re playing, Danielle, but if you don’t tread cautiously you will get yourself hurt. You, and that husband of yours, both.”

The rest of their ride’s in silence, the darkness around them covering her sights do little to distract Dani from her thoughts. Jamie’s stayed at Bly Manor, her official post in the village starting tonight, marking their first night spent apart since marriage. Dani’s heading back to Truesiles with Lord Clayton, ready to pack all of their belongings as quickly as humanly possible. And then she’ll bid her father goodbye, marking her first time not living directly under his authority. There’s still more she’s striving for, he still officially owns Bly Manor, he’s still the most powerful lord with a stake in Bly Village, but this is a step up. 

This is a new beginning, for Dani, for Jamie, for Dani and Jamie.

-

“So,” Hannah sets down two cups of tea, one in front of Jamie, one still wrapped in her hand. “You’re a woman.”

Jamie sputters.


End file.
